Vita sola, ars perfectum
by WearerOfCapes
Summary: When Howard, Vince, Naboo and Bollo are evicted from their flat, they find themselves in an artists' squat in central London. It isn't long before Vince is struggling to stay sane and smoking weed to escape. But can Howard take the strain of trying to keep him clean? And will Vince ruin himself anyway? T for language and drug use.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Another new story, I know, what happened to all the rest? The point is, I've not written anything for ages, since I looked through some of my old stuff and realised how awful it is. I'm basically using this as a catalyst to get me back into my fanfictions. And to anyone reading Return of the Boosh, The Boosh is Loose, etc: I will update them as soon as I can. But for now, have a new story. I've got no idea where it's going, but we'll see. By the way, if you don't read Latin, which you probably don't, the title means: _Life is lonely, art is perfect_. But if you know I got it wrong, feel free to tell me how it should be translated and I'll change it. The main theme of this fic is inspired by my recent trip to Berlin, where we went and looked around an artist's squat and (in an occurence unrelated to this story) I breathed in some of what they were smoking and went a bit weird. So yeah. Sorry about the long A/N and Enjoy! :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh, I'm not awesome enough.**

**By the way: first person POV again, since the last one I did seemed okay.**

Howard's POV

I threw the latest pile of overdue bills on the table in front of Naboo and scowled at him.

"Well?" I said.

"Well what?" he replied.

"Well, what are you going to do about them?"

"What is there to do?" he asked.

"Pay them, before we all get chucked out!"

"Fuck off, I ain't made o' money."

"Naboo, you should have paid the bills instead of spending all the cash on new turbans and weed!"

"Look, I'm a shaman. That's what I'm here for."

"Not right now, Naboo. _You're_ the one in charge of money, _you're_ the one who takes our contributions to the rent and spends them. Use them properly, and pay the bills, pay the rent, sort yourself out!" I shouted the last part a little too loudly and Bollo stood up, staring defensively at me.

"S'alright Bollo." Naboo said. "Leave 'im to it." I walked out of the kitchen into the bedroom, kicking aside the clothes strewn over the floor. Some were mine, where I'd thrown them the night before as I got changed. The rest were all Vince's, where he'd chucked them whilst looking for an outfit. I picked them all up, throwing mine into the wash basket. All the sparkly ones I folded neatly and put in a pile atop the chest of drawers. Vince was still asleep, halfway off the bed, arm dangling onto the floor. If he'd moved any further, he'd have fallen off. But I left him to it. He looked peaceful, which was more than he'd been the night before. He'd been tossing and turning for hours, waking me occasionally to talk for a few minutes. When he did finally drop off, he'd been twitching and mumbling like he was having nightmares. I picked up his arm and tucked it back up onto the bed, before leaving the room. I wanted to go for a walk, to clear my head after the outburst of anger. So I picked up my hat and my keys before walking out into the warm July morning.

The sun had disappeared behind a cloud for a few moments as I sat down on a bench by Regent's canal. I watched for a while as the boats passed by. I soon lost my concentration, though; I was too busy thinking about the unpaid bills sitting on the table. It was fairly unlikely that Naboo would pay them without being cajoled into it, but he wouldn't listen to me. He only listened to Vince or Bollo. He'd never been fond of me, but then, who could blame him? No one was ever that fond of me. As the sun came out again, I sighed and leant back on the bench, closing my eyes and letting it warm my face. But I knew I couldn't stay there all day; I had to talk to Vince, see if he could make Naboo see sense. So I stood up and walked back the way I had come, rattling the keys in my pocket.

I arrived back at the flat to see Naboo still sitting at the table, now reading the bills with a look of disgust on his face. Bollo sat beside him, opening the envelopes and shredding the addressed parts. At least they had some sense. I went through to the bedroom to find Vince standing in front of the wardrobe in his pants.

"Oh, sorry!" I said, walking out again.

"It's alright, Howard, I'm just lookin' for some clothes. You can come in."

"I'm fine; I'll wait until you're dressed." I waited in silence as I heard Vince clattering about. Ten minutes later, he shouted:

"I'm decent now!" I walked in as he was sitting on his bed zipping up his white boots.

"Morning." I said. "Sleep alright?"

"In the end, yeah. Had a nightmare or two, but it was fine. Thanks for not shouting at me when I kept talking to you."

"Well, what are friends for?"

"I dunno, but I reckon most o' mine wouldn't take kindly to being woken up at two am."

"Yeah. Listen, I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Naboo hasn't paid the rent for god knows how long. He hasn't paid the bills either, and there's a pile of them on the table. He's just looking at them. I can't tell him that he needs to pay them, he won't listen. D'you think you could have a word?"

"If you like, yeah. I could try. I doubt he'll listen though. You know what he's like."

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Look, I'll give it a try. But don't blame me if he won't do it."

"Well, he's going to have to, otherwise we're all gonna get chucked out."

"True. I'll have a word with him in a bit. Don't worry about it, Howard. We'll sort it out."

"Will we though? Really?"

"I dunno. I was just tryin' to cheer you up."

"Oh. Well, thanks, little man."

"My pleasure." I sat next to him on the bed. He looked at me and lifted the corner of his mouth, like he couldn't manage a proper smile.

"Howard, if we do get chucked out, where are we gonna go?" He asked.

"I don't know. You should ask around your friends; I haven't got enough to be of any use."

"Mm. Maybe I'll ask Leroy. Or someone. Yeah, I'll give him a ring later. Just in case."

"Yeah. Just in case." I paused. "Do you want some breakfast?"

"Yeah, that'd be great." He smiled properly and we got up from the bed to go to the kitchen. Naboo still sat there, but got up as we walked in.

"C'mon, Bollo." He said. "We got a trip to make." Bollo grunted and followed him, stopping to high-five Vince.

"Where are you goin'?" Vince asked them.

"We're gonna visit the shamans. See if they can help us out a bit." He waved the pile of bills and went to get the magic carpet out of his wardrobe. I sighed and carried on to the kitchen, sitting down at the table and putting my head in my hands.

"What's up, Howard?" Vince asked.

"Naboo obviously doesn't have enough to pay everything, does he?"

"No, but that's why he's goin' to the shamans. They can help us!"

"Vince, the shamans are tight bastards. They aren't going to give us anything, not even on loan. We're fucked."

"Howard." He put a hand on my shoulder, and I sat up to tell him off, but he moved it. "Howard, don't worry so much. It makes you look old and it makes you ill. Everything'll be alright, you wait."

"I wish I agreed, Vince. I wish it would. I guess you should give Leroy a call after all."

**Damn it, angst already. I don't want to make this story too heavy, so I'll try to hold off on that, but if it gets worse, I'll warn you. Don't expect too much humour though, not yet at least. Maybe when I get going. Anyway, I'll be off now. I'll try to update soon :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Yay, random update in the middle of the night! I felt inspired and wrote this. However. What I said last chapter about there not being much angst? I had to entirely reimagine my storyline after realising the cliche levels of the planned one (THROUGH THE ROOF), and now my new plan is much more angsty. It also doesn't match up with the summary, so I've changed that. So sorry if you were looking forward to lighter stuff. I'll try to insert humour and stuff where I can. Anyhoo, on with the story. Enjoy :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not even my own left arm. hehe.**

Vince's POV

I hung up on Leroy after a heated ten minute argument over the size of his flat. He reckoned it was way too small to take in me and Howard. He said I could come, but Howard couldn't. I knew he was lying; I'd been there enough times to know that more than two people could sleep comfortably in his massive apartment. But he wouldn't give up, so I let the matter drop. I threw my phone down onto the sofa, but it bounced off and hit the floor with a crack.

"Shit!" I swore, getting down on the floor to pick it up. I put the back on again as Howard poked his head around the door from the bedroom.

"Are you alright out there?" He asked.

"Yeah, fine. Dropped my phone, that's all." I replied.

"Oh. Good." He disappeared, but then came back. "I guess we aren't going to Leroy's place then?"

"No. You heard the argument, I guess?"

"Was hard not to, half of it at least. You sure you're okay?"

"I told you, I'm fine." I said, maybe a bit too impatiently. "It's just… Leroy's lyin' to me, and I don't like it."

"How is he lying?"

"He reckons we won't fit in his flat, which is bull. I've stayed there with about five other people before. It doesn't matter. I'll ring around my mates, Howard. I'll find somewhere, I promise."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Seriously, I've got _enough_ mates, ain't I?" I smiled and winked at him, trying to stop him worrying. It seemed to work, as he smiled back and went back into our room. I could hear him clattering about as I scrolled through my contacts. I was memorising the names of people I thought might help us, like Ingray. He was a musician and he'd always been welcoming to me before, so I thought we might have a chance. Although I wasn't sure about where he lived. On the other hand, Cherry had a pretty big house in the suburbs, but I didn't know how keen she'd be to take in a glittery rock star and a jazzy freak. I sighed and decided to just go through a few numbers, hoping for an act of kindness from someone.

Twelve failed phone calls later, I called it a day. I collapsed on the sofa and buried my head in my hands. I pulled at my hair, ruining it. It was useless. Everyone I had called had been sympathetic, in a way, but no one had the time or the space to take us in. Ingray told me that he'd just downsized to a miniscule flat because his band was suffering. Cherry said she wouldn't be able to deal with us under her feet. I'd even given Fossil a call. He was all up for it until I mentioned Howard, at which point he went off on one. I heard another crash from the bedroom and frowned at the closed door. _What the hell is he doing in there?_ I thought. I went over and opened the door cautiously. Howard was sitting on his bed with a notebook, surrounded by stuff.

"Howard? What you doing?" I asked.

"I'm having a sort out." He replied, not looking at me.

"A sort out of what?"

"Everything. We aren't gonna be able to take all this junk with us, are we?"

"Oh. No, I guess not."

"Right, now are you gonna give me a hand or just stand there watching?" He said scathingly. I shook my head and said:

"No, no, I'll help." I stepped over the piles of stuff and looked at his notebook. "So, what d'you want me to do?"

"Go through all your stuff and divide it into what you want to take with you, what you can throw away, and what can go into storage. The pile of stuff to take with you needs to be small, okay? Don't just chuck in every item of clothing you own."

"Yeah, sure, right. How are you gonna put stuff into storage though? We can't afford to pay for somewhere, can we?"

"I've already got somewhere, Vince, okay?" He snapped.

"Alright. Sorry." I silently went over to my wardrobe and started pulling out my clothes. I tried to think like everyone else for a while, but it was difficult. I didn't know where we would end up, so I decided to take my most normal clothes. Not that there were many of them. I put a heap of band t-shirts and skinny jeans into the pile of stuff to take, then started on everything else. Eventually I got down to the last few items. I sighed. The glam rock ski suit was fun, but I doubted it would ever be useful again, so I put it into the rubbish pile. Then came an old jumper with a Native-American style pattern on it. I supposed I would need a jumper when we moved, so I put with the other clothes I would take. Finally, I picked up the mirrorball suit. It was my favourite outfit in the whole world. But it wasn't, strictly speaking, '_normal'_. The little devil on my shoulder said: 'Stuff other people! Wear it proudly!' But the angel said: 'No, just put it into storage. You'll get it back.' I debated in my head for a while before folding it carefully and placing it reverentially on the storage pile. I closed the empty wardrobe and began to search through the rest of my possessions for what I needed.

Two hours later, I looked around and said:

"Howard? I think I'm done." Howard looked up from his note-taking and replied:

"Oh, good. Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I've cleared everything out." He looked at what I was taking with me and raised his eyebrows.

"Wow. You know, you might just get that into two suitcases. That's an achievement." I laughed.

"Yeah." Howard was silent for a moment.

"Sorry for snapping at you earlier." He said quietly.

"S'alright Howard. I know how you feel. I want to snap as well. Like a brittle twig."

"I'm just stressed over all this. Naboo and Bollo'll be back soon, hoping for us to have found somewhere, and we'll just be sat in our well organised room with no results."

"I know. I've rang loads of people. I can't think of anyone else who'd be friendly enough."

"Did you try Ingray?"

"Yep."

"Uh… Cherry?"

"Yep."

"What about… Alena?"

"I tried every… Hang on, who?"

"Alena, you know? Alena Starr?"

"Oh, Alena! She used to be in my art class!"

"I know. Did you ring her?"

"No! I'm going to now though. Howard, you're a genius." I ran into the living room and picked up my phone from where I'd left it on the coffee table. It didn't take long for me to find Alena's number and ring her.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Alena!"

"Oh, hi, Vince! Long time, no see!"

"I know. How are you doing?"

"Oh, not so bad. Bit weird, but… Yeah. You?"

"Um… Not so great actually. That's kind of why I rang."

"Oh, really? What's wrong?"

"Me and Howard are gonna get kicked out of our flat soon. Our mate, Naboo, he's in charge of the rent, and he ain't been paying it. Could I be really cheeky?"

"And ask if I'd take you in? Well, the living situation's fairly relaxed. I'm not really in charge of who comes in, but neither is anyone else. So… sure." I couldn't believe it. Finally somewhere to go, and it had been so easy.

"Oh, Alena, you're an angel, I swear. What are we gonna have to pay?"

"Um… things are a bit complex in that respect. I'll explain when you get here." She gave me the address and I thanked her about a million times, before hanging up and running back to Howard.

"Howard!" I almost shouted in my excitement.

"What's up, little man?"

"She said yes! We can go and stay with her, she doesn't mind! We've got somewhere, Howard!" He grinned, his first proper smile since we heard the news, stood up, and hugged me.

"It's alright, Vince. It's gonna be fine." I laughed and hugged him back.

"I think so. I think everything'll be good now." But, of course, I was wrong. When wasn't I?

**And so it begins... Reviews would be frickin' awesome and will make me smile :)**

**Oh, and the next update due is for The Garden Party, so stay tuned for that maybe tomorrow. Or later today, I guess. Soon, anyway! Bye!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I am really getting good at these middle-of-the-night updates, aren't I? I think this is the third or fourth one now. I felt that it needed doing, so I did it. If only I was that productive with everything else. Anyway, my writing habits aside, I hope this will be a good one for you. It's longer than I was expecting, but not much really happens. So it's a bit weird in that respect. Stuff will start actually happening next chapter, I think. But hopefully this one's not bad either :)**

**Disclaimer: I owneth not the Mightiest of Booshes, for I am but a humble peasant. (Shakespearean disclaimers are the future, trust me)**

Howard's POV

The next morning, two letters dropped through the door. One was junk mail, which I threw into the bin immediately. I opened the other one, although I already knew what it was. An eviction notice. I sighed and went to find Naboo. He was sitting on the sofa with Bollo, smoking his hookah. Silently, I handed him the letter. He read it over quickly and passed it to Bollo.

"So." He said. "Have you two got somewhere to go?"

"Yeah, one of Vince's old student mates is gonna let us stay with her. It sounds a bit weird, but I think we'll be okay. Are you coming with us?"

"Nah, we're gonna go stay with the shamans again. We'll just 'ave to put up with them."

"Well, we've got five days."

"That's not long, is it?"

"No, not really. Vince and I will probably go today. We've got to go and put some stuff into storage first, so we'll take the van."

"Fine. We've got the carpet."

"Is there anything of yours you want putting into storage?"

"No, we'll be alright, won't we Bollo?" Bollo grunted noncommittally. He was still reading the letter carefully.

"Repo man will come in five days." He muttered.

"I know, Bollo. We're gonna stay 'ere and deal with him, and then we'll go." He turned back to me. "You ought to get ready. Wake Vince up and send 'im in here. I want to talk to 'im." I nodded and walked back into the bedroom, where Vince was asleep, face down in the pillow. I prodded his arm gently, then a bit harder. He moaned and turned his head on the pillow so he was facing me, then opened his eyes.

"What d'you want?" he mumbled.

"We've had our eviction notice, and we have to leave today. Naboo wants to speak to you." He sighed and sat up.

"Where is he?"

"On the sofa. Don't breathe too deeply; he's smoking something weird again."

"I won't." He walked out unsteadily, clearly still tired. I watched as he went over to sit with Naboo, but a moment later, Bollo came over to close the door. I was wary of that, but I left it and started to pack my things into an old brown suitcase, almost squashing my trusty hat in the process. I considered putting it into storage, but in the end I gave up and put it on. Then I started collecting all the rubbish into bags, and putting anything that needed storing into cardboard boxes. The last thing I picked up was my collection of rare jazz LP's. I wanted to take it with me so much. Jazz was often the only thing that kept me sane when trying to deal with Vince and his tantrums. But I knew I was going to be around arty people who wouldn't see jazz as an acceptable music genre. I wanted to not care, but I knew that if I took the records with me, they would probably get smashed to bits. With a forlorn sigh, I put it in a cardboard box and sealed it carefully. Vince then walked in wearing nothing but his pants- Again.

"Vince, why are you in your underwear?" I asked.

"Oh, I had a shower. Forgot to take any other clothes in with me." He replied.

"Right. Well, get dressed. I'll start putting your stuff in boxes if you like."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks." I got to work, picking up the heaps that had been scattered slightly since the night before and boxing them up. I picked up the mirrorball suit and said:

"You aren't taking this with you?" He turned to look.

"Oh. No, I'm not. I think I'll be better off if I just blend in a bit more now."

"Oh, alright. Never mind, you'll get it back, won't you?"

"Mm." I left him to put his boots on and started putting his rubbish into bags. It was a solemn affair, and none of us spoke for a while, except when he asked me to move so he could get his purple suitcase out from under the bed. But when the room was emptied of all the clutter I'd come to know and love, I said:

"God, it feels weird in here now."

"It feels like no one's ever been here. I don't like it." Vince whispered.

"Don't worry, Vince. Y'know, nothing lasts forever, we'll find somewhere else."

"That's what Naboo said. Nothing lasts forever." My curiosity was piqued.

"What else did he say?"

"I dunno, really. A lot of it didn't make sense. He kept telling me things like, 'Stay yourself, no matter what happens', and 'Sometimes you should ignore the truth because it's better to live a lie than to die'."

"Oh. Morbid."

"I don't know, Howard. Maybe he's finally goin' around the bend."

"Maybe. Come on, we need to pack this lot into the van." I looked around at the multitude of boxes. There were nine, meaning it would take us at least four trips to take them all. Vince nodded and picked one up, and I took another. We headed down the stairs, out the front door, and down the road to where the van was parked in the communal garages. I then drove it around to the front of the shop as Vince went to get another box. After half an hour, we had put all the rubbish out, packed all the boxes, and we had our suitcases in our hands, ready to leave for good. We stopped to say goodbye to Naboo and Bollo. I shook them both by the hand, trying not to wince at Bollo's iron grip. Vince hugged them both, and I saw him hide his head as tears ran down his cheeks. I heard Naboo mutter:

"Remember what I told you, Vince. Stay safe."

"I will, Naboolio. I will. I'm gonna miss you."

"Yeah. I'll miss you too." Eventually, Vince reluctantly detached himself from the shaman, and we walked out of the flat. When we got to the van, we put our suitcases in the back, and I hugged Vince, not letting my fear of touch stop me. Vince needed comfort, and I was going to give it, regardless of what my mind thought about that.

"It's alright, Vince. It's okay." I said softly.

"No it isn't." He replied. "I'm never gonna see Naboo or Bollo again. No more magic carpets or gorilla hugs or being called ballbags."

"We'll see them again, Vince. Just wait and see." He pulled away from me.

"I hope you're right, Howard. I need you to be right." We got into the van, and he fell silent immediately. I sighed, started the engine, and drove away from our home.

The storage centre was only about ten minutes away from the flat. I parked up near the garage-like building, got out my keys, and opened the door. Inside were all my old boxes of miscellany and musical instruments I didn't dare use anymore. Vince decided to have a look around straight away. He found a pair of sunglasses that were so big he looked like an insect when he put them on.

"Howard, why do you even own these?"

"Vince, the reason everything is in here is because I realised it was useless but I didn't want to throw it away."

"Oh. Are you gonna salvage any of it?"

"I don't think so. There's not a lot worth salvaging, apart from the odd jazz record."

"Oh. Come on, then. Let's get the boxes in here."

"Yeah. You might want to take my sunglasses off first." He removed them, placing them on top of an old bookcase that I'd shoved in here. It didn't take us as long to unpack the boxes from the van as it had to get them in there, and we were soon back on the road. The address we were heading for was nearer to the centre of London. Finally, we arrived at a huge, grey building, and I parked the van behind what I hoped would become a home for us both.

**Three word description of their new home sucks, don't it? It's okay, there'll be more. Reviews are the bestest :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I just wrote a really long A/N and then the page crashed and I can't be bothered to write it again. Anyway. Another nocturnal update, possibly my last one for a while, cause my mum wants me to actually do some work, and that will make me tired. I will still update as often as I can though, I promise :) Also, enjoy this chapter :D**

**Disclaimer: Yep, I own the Mighty Boosh. That's why I'm sitting here writing fanfiction when I could just be directing an episode.**

Vince's POV

I took my suitcases from the van and closed the door. There was a courtyard at the back of the building where people were milling about, and a garden beyond that. I could see smoke rising from a bonfire. I looked around for Alena, and eventually spotted her near the doors. Howard locked the van and we went over to her. It was good to see her again, since I hadn't contacted her for a couple of years. I put my suitcases down to give her a hug.

"You made it okay then?" She asked.

"Yeah, we got here fine." I replied. "Alena, this is Howard. He's my best mate."

"Hi Howard." They shook hands awkwardly, and Howard stayed quiet. I knew he wasn't very good with new people, so I changed the subject.

"So, this is where you live?"

"Yeah, this is… home, sweet home, I guess."

"How many people live here?"

"Oh… About twenty, I'd say."

"Is it divided into flats, then?"

"Um… not exactly. Look, come with me. I'll show you your room and the rest of this place, and I'll explain everything when we get inside."

"Alright then." I was starting to get a bit wary of how devious she was being. She also looked nervous, like she was scared of being found out. Even so, we followed her to the door.

"Oh, by the way, I'm sorry about the smell on the ground floor. It gets better as you go up." She opened the door, and sure enough, I was hit full in the face with an unholy stink. I heard Howard cough, and I covered my nose with my t-shirt. We ascended the stairs as quickly as we could, five flights, all the way to the top. Three doors led off a long landing and Alena led us through the one on the right.

"This is the last spare room we've got. It's not much, but hopefully you can get comfortable…" She trailed off. I could see why. The room was huge, about the same size as the flat we had just left. The walls were painted white, but there was graffiti scattered over them. The floor was bare concrete, covered in places with small scraps of carpet and the odd mismatched rug. A large easel stood in the centre of the room, and there was a single wooden chair near the grubby window. In the corner opposite the door was a camp bed and a mattress without a frame to keep it off the floor.

"Alena?" I asked. "What's going on here?" She sighed.

"It's kind of hard to explain." She said, sitting on some of the carpets. "And I want you to know that I'm only here because I have to be."

"Alright, fine." Howard and I sat opposite her.

"Remember I said that everything was a bit complicated money-wise?" I nodded. "Well, that's because we don't pay anything in this place. It's a squat. We're all here illegally. The point is, though, it's an artist's squat, so we have to sell what we do to get the money to survive. I'm sure if we had enough left, we'd pay the owners of the building."

"No you wouldn't." Howard said.

"Sorry?"

"I did notice the expensive smartphone in your pocket." Alena blushed and ducked her head.

"Yeah, okay, maybe not. But believe me; I was in the same situation as you. I got chucked out of my house, and Finley took me in."

"Finley?" I said, confused.

"He's kind of unofficially in charge. I checked that it was okay for you two to come here, so don't worry."

"So, if this is a squat, how come you haven't been thrown out of here yet?"

"Well, this used to be a big department store, but it was abandoned. They were gonna knock it down, but they never did. No one wants it, so I guess they thought it'd be okay to move in. And no one knows we're here."

"How do they not notice?" Howard asked.

"We don't use the front entrance, ever. So remember not to use that door. Everything outdoors is behind us, and the only thing that it's near is an alleyway. Nobody uses the alley because it's full of rubbish; you can't even get down there. All we have to remember is not to make too much noise and not to open the windows on the front of the building."

"And we have to remember all this." I said.

"If you want to stay here. Finley threw someone out last month for opening all the first floor windows."

"Oh. Great."

"Yeah. I know. Just try to see the positives. At least we have some roof over our heads. Do you want to look around now?"

"Yeah, why not?" We left our bags in the room and went back out onto the landing. We went into the room in the centre, where a man was sitting in the middle of the room with a snare drum, performing loud drumrolls. Alena waved to him and shouted above the noise:

"That's David. He's a drummer as well as an artist." The room was also full of abstract paintings. There was a curtain dividing the room into two, and we went over to the other side of the room, where another man was gluing plates to the ground and dribbling blue paint around them. Alena introduced him as Keelan, and told us that no one ever really knew what he was doing. We headed back to the left-hand room. There was a young woman with short blonde hair standing in front of an easel, her paintbrush in her mouth, looking intently at the man across the room without any clothes on.

"Okay, sorry, Jane, we're just passing through." Alena called. Jane didn't turn around. I didn't even look at the scene as Alena led us through to the balcony. I wasn't surprised to see that there was a woman sitting on the balcony smoking. What I was surprised at was the small girl standing on the arm of her chair, looking over the railing, and the toddler sitting at her feet playing with a small rag.

"Hello, Alena." The woman said. "Have we got new ones?"

"Yeah, this is Vince and Howard. This is Yvonne." We muttered greetings and Alena led us down to the next floor. We met more and more artists; Coralie and Peter, Jackson and Fiona, Ryan and Alec, Billie and Richard. I lost track of most of them straight away, and Howard looked just as bemused as I was. But we eventually reached the first floor. Alena said:

"There's no one on the ground floor. That's where the rubbish goes until we find somewhere to dump it. That's why it smells."

"Wonderful." There was only one door on this floor, and she led us through. I stopped in my tracks straight away. The room was enormous; it had a high ceiling with huge beams across, and the windows were huge. However, there was no light coming in, as they had cloths pinned over them. The room was lit mainly by red and blue spotlights shining on the massive paintings that were strewn all over.

"What is this place?" I asked Alena.

"There's a few people sharing this as a studio; me, Mathew, Jackie, and-"

"Me." A male voice came from behind us, and we turned to look. A man about my height stood in front of us. "The name's Finley. And you must be Vince. And…?"

"Howard." He held out a hand, which Finley shook.

"Nice to meet you. What do you think of the place?"

"It's… strange." Finley laughed.

"Of course it is. What do you expect? We're artists!"

"So am I, but not so… extreme."

"Well, I guarantee that after a few weeks here, you will be. I think you'll find that it… rubs off quickly." I smiled nervously.

"Yeah… well, I think we need to talk to Alena for a minute. 'Scuse us." I pulled Howard and Alena out of the room.

"What in the name of sanity _is_ he?"

"He's just a person, Vince." Alena laughed. "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know. But I'm telling you, I've met some creepers in my time, and he definitely applies for the title."

"Get a grip, Vince." She smiled. "He's alright when you get to know him."

"Yeah, I'd rather not, thanks."

"Yeah? Okay then. Listen, I've got a project that I need to finish if I'm going to eat next week. So you two ought to go and get settled in. You'll need to have something you can sell by the weekend too, or you'll be in trouble." She went back into the room and I heard her apologise to Finley for us. I shook my head and walked back up the stairs, followed closely by Howard.

"You alright?" I asked him.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" He replied.

"I dunno. You and all these arty types, you don't normally mix that well."

"I think you'll find I'm a very artistic person, in a dark, poetic way."

"No way are you artistic. You've never done a drawing in your life."

"No, but I could start. I could start today, sir."

"Come on then. We've got to do some, let's do it." Howard sighed and shook his head.

"Let's not. Not right now. Let's just spend today getting settled in, shall we?"

"Yeah, alright." We walked up the last flight of steps to our room. "Howard?" I said.

"Yeah?"

"I'm not sure I like it here."

"No. Me neither."

We tried to unpack our stuff, but there wasn't really anywhere to put anything. I was just glad that I had brought my art materials with me, if I was going to have to produce artwork to sell. In the end, we left our clothes in our suitcases and I started to paint, talking to Howard as I did. Before I knew it, night had fallen. We hadn't eaten anything, but I realised that I was tired, and that took precedence. There was a short argument over who got the camp bed, mainly because Howard thought I should have it, and I thought it'd be better if he did. In the end, I physically pushed him onto it, and he gave up. We started off with our pillows at the left side of the beds, but Howard said:

"This doesn't feel right." He picked up his pillow and put it at the other end of the bed so that our heads were together.

"Howard, I think we should swap every week."

"What?"

"We should swap beds every week so that it's fair."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's a good idea."

"Okay then." I paused. "I don't think it's safe here, you know."

"No. I've seen demolition sites safer than this place. Some of these 'artists' look like psychopaths."

"Yeah. Can I ask you a favour?"

"Yeah."

"Look after me?" I tilted my head back to look at him.

"Only if you look after me."

"Deal."

"Alright. Goodnight, Vince."

"G'night, Howard."

**Reviews would be very awesome :)**

**By the way, I just want to inform you readers of a dream I had the other night that scared me. A LOT. I dreamt that Noel Fielding had died and I was out looking all over the world for him and couldn't find him. And then I woke up and couldn't remember if he really had died! Seriously, I can't deal with it when my brain throws this stuff at me. I almost had a breakdown. In all honesty though, am I a freak for dreaming of Noel Fielding?**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I wrote this at two in the morning, so I'm sorry if it's crap. Ideas strike at awkward times for me. Also, it's a little bit shorter than the last few have been, but the next one will be longer. Oh, and angst is setting in now. However, at least with this story I have some idea of what I'm doing; I sat down and wrote a plan for it yesterday. Although it did only consist of a sentence for each chapter. Ah well, it'll be fine, I hope. By the way, Return of the Boosh is on its way, it just took me a while to have a decent idea to work with. Should be here tomorrow. Enjoy this chapter :3**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything! Please don't sue me, I've got so little to give! (See what I did there?)**

Howard's POV

September was quick in arriving, and the nights began to draw in. It got colder too, and we used the spare money from selling Vince's paintings to buy extra blankets. We were lying in bed one night when I heard him take a sharp breath.

"Vince?" I asked. "You alright?" There was silence for a second and he took another, shakier breath.

"Yeah. I'm fine." He choked. I sat up and flicked on the light (the artists had illegally rerouted electricity from a nearby building). Vince pulled the blanket over his head.

"Turn it off." he groaned.

"Are you crying?" I asked. Vince shook his head. "Are you sure?" Another shake of the head. "What's wrong? I asked.

"Just leave it, Howard. I'm fine."

"You aren't."

"Howard!" He removed the blanket, revealing his red rimmed eyes. "Leave me alone!"

"Alright." I held my hands up in surrender. "Sorry I asked." I switched the light off again. I heard Vince turn over, then nothing. It was making me uncomfortable.

"Listen," I began, as gently as I could, "I'm just trying to look out for you. He didn't reply for a minute. Eventually, he quietly said:

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, Vince wasn't there. I frowned. He was never up before me. I wondered if I was late, but when I checked my watch, it was only eight am. I got dressed and went to look for him. He wasn't on the balcony, or in any of the rooms on our floor. I thought that if anyone would know where he was, it would be Alena, so I headed down to the second floor. I found her sitting in the middle of the floor on her own, surrounded by biro drawings, a blank canvas in front of her. No one else was there. She looked up as I came in.

"Hi Howard." she said.

"Hi Alena. Have you seen Vince?"

"Oh, yeah. He's gone to help the others sell the artwork."

"Really?"

"Mm-hm. They left about half an hour ago."

"Oh. D'you know when they'll be back?"

"Not sure. Maybe lunchtime?"

"Oh."

"Haven't you noticed them going before?"

"Not really. We never took much interest, just handed the art over and left them to it. They always gave us the money."

"Mm. Do you want to join me for a bit?" I thought about it. Alena had never been hugely friendly with me, but at least she was civil. I went over and sat on the floor next to her.

"So, how are you?" I asked.

"Not too bad. I've got a good feeling about the painting I sent off today."

"Yeah? What was it a painting of?"

"Self-portrait with added cubism. It looked pretty good."

"Oh. Good."

"What kind of art do you do, Howard?"

"Um... I've never really been that artistic. Vince does the paintings." I admitted.

"Oh. Does he mind that you aren't providing for yourself?"

"Well... He's never said so before. Although, lately, he's being... Weird."

"In what way?"

"All sorts of ways, just little ways. I barely notice sometimes. Just the way he talks sometimes, the way he looks at me. The fact that he's too quiet when he should be loud. And last night, I swear he was... Crying."

"There's nothing wrong with crying."

"I know. But Vince never cries. Not like that. And he wouldn't tell me what was wrong. He told me to leave him alone."

"Howard, do you ever feel you might be taking him a little but for granted?"

"I... Not... Yeah. Sometimes."

"You have to remember that he's his own person. He might be having troubles that he'd be embarrassed to tell you about. You have to leave him to sort them out himself, try to help without interfering."

"Yeah. You're right. But Vince is different. He relies on me as much as I rely on him."

"Do you know that for sure though?"

"Without a doubt. We've always been a team. I left him on his own once and... Well, long story short, he got knocked out by a fox and it nearly killed us both." Alena looked at me strangely.

"Right. Angry fox?"

"Could say that."

"Well, I don't know, Howard. You obviously know him a lot better than I do. But I do know one thing about him. If you want him to tell you something, wait for him to come to you. He'll never tell you if you keep on at him."

"Yeah. I'll leave it for now. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Howard. Be careful."

"I will." I got up and left the room, before trooping up the stairs to ours. I looked around at the empty space. As I walked across the uncarpeted parts of the floor, my footsteps echoed in the empty space. I looked at the half finished canvas on the easel. Vince clearly hadn't completed it in time to sell. It looked as though he was trying to draw Elvis, and from the facial outlines it didn't look like he was doing a bad job. I sat down on the camp bed and stared at the blank wall. It was wrong. I didn't like living somewhere where nothing had our stamp on it. It was boring and sad. I spotted Vince's paint. He had recently bought some electric blue emulsion for something big he was planning. There was a large brush next to the tin, and it gave me an idea...

* * *

Vince walked into our room at eleven thirty and wrinkled his nose.

"Ugh, it stinks of paint in here." he said. "What have you been doin'?" I pointed to the wall, and he stared at the indelible mark I had made. I expected him to go mad at me for using his paint. But instead, he smiled.

"That's pretty cool, Howard." I had painted on the wall: 'Moon and Noir: Blank canvases are there to be filled!'

"Thanks." I replied. "How did your selling go?"

"Not too bad. Didn't get so much this week, but it was still okay."

"Good. Are you okay?" I inquired as casually as I could.

"I'm... Yeah. Fine."

"Great." I couldn't think of anything else to say, other than to ask him what was going on. So I stayed quiet, watching as he put the money under the mattress on the floor. As he straightened up, he suddenly said:

"Listen, Howard, I'm sorry I snapped at you last night. I just... I dunno. I've been feeling bad lately. Y'know, having to do all this art to provide for us. And I've never really worked before. I'm in over my head."

"I know. And I'm sorry I haven't been able to help you with the art."

"S'alright. I know you're the least arty person ever to come from Leeds."

"Yeah. And, you know, if you need someone to talk to, I'm always here."

"I know, Howard. You always are."

* * *

The next day, once again, Vince was gone when I woke up. I knew that this time he wasn't selling; they only went once a week. I remembered what Alena had said and left him to it, trying not to make him uncomfortable. I wanted him to tell me what was really wrong. I knew that what he had told me about the artwork and being in over his head was true. But I also knew it wasn't the full story. There was more in his eyes, like he wanted to tell me but didn't dare. I just wanted to comfort him, make him feel better, and turn him back into his old self. He was making it difficult, and I didn't want to lose him completely. So I lay back down on the camp bed, picking up my well-thumbed copy of To Kill a Mockingbird from underneath it. Distractedly, I began to read the book for the third time since we had arrived.

**Howard's lonely :( I want to hug him.**

**Reviews would be absolutely genius ;) Much love x**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Oh, look, I'm updating this one and not return of the boosh. I'M SORRY! I decided last week that Thursday should be my day for updating it, and then never did it. So this Thursday, I'm updating TWO chapters of Return of the Boosh. Just to make up for the wait and the fact that I keep saying I'll update it and then don't. Anyway. I wrote this chapter at two in the morning as well, but I've checked over it about seven times, so it should be okay. Should being the operative word. Some things are going to come out in this chapter. I hope you like it :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even the photos from Berlin I'm using to inspire me (My camera broke so I had to borrow someone else's.)**

Vince's POV

I felt bad for having abandoned Howard, but I needed to get out. I had told him all I could the day before, and I didn't need him pestering me for information. Slowly, I was growing less close to Howard, even though nothing seemed to have changed for him. I knew that it was because of Finley. I was hanging around with him more and more. At first it had been because I needed to be popular and cool. Now it was because I couldn't stop. To tell the truth, Finley scared me. I had never understood how he came to be in charge of the artists. He was of average height, with average brown hair, average brown eyes, and a below-average dress sense. Nothing marked him out as a leader until he turned that horrible grin on you. He was scary. He had threatened and frightened his way to the top. And he wouldn't leave me alone. I couldn't talk to him without my voice shaking; I couldn't stand near him without feeling a chill. As soon as I got to know him properly, my mind started screaming: 'Serial killer! Get the fuck out of there!' But it was too late by then. I had told Howard I was in too deep, and it wasn't a lie. But I wasn't hanging about with Finley today; I didn't think I could take it. Instead, I opened the back door, walked out into the courtyard, and left the squat behind. I wandered aimlessly for a while, not knowing or caring where I ended up. It was a little too cold outside for mid-September, and I was glad I had remembered my jumper. I stared at the floor, but got a lot of stares from passers-by. I realised that I hadn't taken my eyeliner off the night before, or even shaved for a few days. I probably looked like a homeless person. Although, when I thought about it, that was what I was. The squat may have been a place to stay, but it wasn't a home.

It was dark by the time I returned, and I was tired. I didn't want to go up to the room until I was sure Howard was asleep, though. So I went to the back of the building and into the garden. The bonfire was still burning, so at least I would be warm. It wasn't until I got close that I realised there was already someone sitting on the bench in front of it.

"Who's that?" I asked quietly.

"Who do you think?" Came the reply.

"Oh. Hey, Howard."

"Hi."

"Can I join you?"

"If you like." I climbed over the bench and sat down next to him. He didn't turn to look at me.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Not much."

"Oh. Okay."

"Where have you been all day, Vince?" He finally looked at me, and I could see how worried he was. Instantly, a pang of guilt hit me.

"I'm sorry. I was out. Just walking."

"What were you walking from?" The question took me by surprise. But of course Howard would know I was trying to escape. He knew me too well.

"Everythin'." I replied vaguely, trying to shake him off my tail. He sighed.

"Look, Vince. I know there's something wrong other than what you told me the other night. You don't have to tell me what it is right now, but I'd like to know. Sometime soon. I just want to help you."

"I know you do, Howard." I looked away from him and into the fire. The orange light dazzled me and seemed to burn into my brain. "I'm just not sure you can help this time." I saw him nod slowly out of the corner of my eye.

"Okay. Will you still tell me?"

"Not now. Maybe soon."

"Thank you." I didn't answer, just stayed staring at the fire, watching the sparks drift into the air and disappear. Howard put a hand on my arm.

"Come here." He hugged me, taking me by surprise. He never started the hug. It was always me.

"I thought you didn't like touchin' people." I said.

"In a place like this, it's hard to avoid. Every time Finley calls one of his stupid meetings, I'm jostled by twenty people. Some things you can get over. That was one of them."

"Oh." I pulled away from the hug and looked at him. He was now staring into the flames. I slowly lay down on the bench so that my head was on his leg, facing the fire, trying to get comfortable after a day of walking around the city. He looked down at me, surprised, but didn't say anything. His hand moved to my head and he started stroking my hair. I let him. It was comfortable to be closer to him than usual now. Now, when I needed him most, Howard had finally let up. I was grateful for that. If he messed up my hair, so what? He knew how to comfort me. Still I stared at the bonfire, but when I broke my gaze, I looked up at Howard. He was looking at me already. I smiled as best I could, and he returned it.

"Howard?" I said.

"What's up, little man?"

"I've broken my promise, ain't I?"

"What?"

"I promised to look after you, and I haven't. You're looking after me, though."

"No, Vince. You've never broken your promise. I haven't needed looking after yet. And I bet that if I do, you'll be there."

"Yeah. I will. But I hope I never need to be."

"I know. I know."

In the end, Howard said:

"It's getting late. I think we should go to bed." I sat up and replied:

"You go. I want to stay out here for a bit." He hesitated, frowning as I tried to avoid his gaze. But eventually, he nodded, patted me on the back, and walked away. I let out a deep breath. I felt strange. Like I never had before. I was walking a line; I could feel it beneath my feet. The line between sanity and madness; between normality and depression; between life and death. My life was changing like it never had before, and not for the better. It had escalated so quickly. A month ago, I'd been worried, but settling in well. And then Finley poked his nose in, and everything broke. Shattered. My life was lying in pieces around me. The only thing I still had, the only bond with reality I hadn't broken, was my friendship with Howard. He was all I had left, apart from the routine. Day after day, the mindless drone of the artists, the endless cycle of forcing a painting and selling it and buying what I needed, all that was keeping me alive. The weed kept me calm and stopped me losing it completely. For a while, anyway. The comedowns were awful. But again, Howard was there. When I cried, I tried not to let him hear; I didn't want to make him worry. But when he'd heard me the night before, he just wanted to make sure I was okay. And it killed me knowing that I was just being cruel. I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to think. When I looked up at the window, the light was out, so I took it that Howard was asleep and it was safe for me to go to bed. When I got to the room, I found out that I was right. I got undressed and climbed under the covers on my mattress. But I couldn't sleep. A memory came to me, the memory of a few weeks before, when they'd persuaded me to try it out...

Alena was showing me a few of her paintings, huge bright canvases full of odd polygons and Picasso-esque cubes. I was impressed, but I kept quiet about my own, small, messy paintings. Suddenly, there was a flurry of activity as three other artists came in, led by Finley. They sat in a circle on the floor, and Alena pulled me over to join them. Just my luck, I ended up next to Finley. I tried not to look at him, so didn't realise what he was fiddling about with at first. Then I saw paper and a lighter flame, so I assumed it was just a roll-up. And then it was on fire, smouldering leaves giving off a smell that made me feel sick. Finley took a puff and passed it to the person on his right. It travelled around the circle until it reached Alena. She tried to pass it on to me. I shook my head.

"No way. That's really bad for you." I said.

"Oh, come on, Vince." she replied scathingly. "Man up. It won't do you any harm, will it?"

"Well..."

"And besides," Finley whispered from behind me, "There's more where that came from. Come on, Vincey. Get it down you." He leered at me, and I took the spliff, mainly to make him stop. I took a deep puff and passed it back to him, shuddering all the while. And the process began again.

Half an hour later, I was bouncing off the walls, happier than I'd ever been. I felt like I could keep going for hours. Finley offered more throughout the day, and I happily accepted. But it started to get to me, and I have to rely on Howard's account of what happened after ten o clock. Apparently I stormed into the room and started smashing stuff up, pulling the little wooden chair to pieces and punching a hole in a nearly-finished canvas. I then flopped down on the bed and fell asleep immediately. Howard didn't know what was happening, so he left me, tried to tidy up what I'd done, and hoped it was just alcohol. That's what I told him it was. Better to live a lie than to die, that's what Naboo said. I wasn't convinced.

**So. Now is where shit starts to go down. And where I start updating less because my ideas suck/are gone. Reviews would be perfect, my friends :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Yet another chapter of this fanfiction arrives. I'm not sure what to say about it. Just that it's sad. And that I extended the metaphor of Vince=sunshine way too far. Sorry about that. Anyway, I hope you like it :)**

**By the way, just so you know, I imagine Finley as being Irish. No idea why, I just do.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh. I would have thought that was obvious by now.**

Howard's POV

It was two pm, and once again I was alone in our room. I wasn't doing anything in particular; just staring into space, reflecting on the events of the night before. When Vince had told me he wanted to be alone outside, it hurt. Almost physically. I had been rejected and left behind by my best friend. And this morning, surprise surprise, it had happened again. He was gone when I woke up. At least today he had had the decency to write me a note:

_Howard. Gone to talk to Alena. Don't come looking for me. Be back at four-ish. Vince x_

I didn't know if he was telling the truth about talking to Alena. If he was, I prayed that she wouldn't tell him about our conversation the other day. I wasn't sure I trusted her in any case. She had seemed judgemental. I should have guessed, I thought bitterly. She's just another one of Vince's hipster friends. But then, she had given me advice about Vince. I sighed. I just didn't know who I trusted anymore. I wasn't always sure I trusted Vince. He wasn't telling me the truth anymore. Even so, I knew that was just because he wanted his secrets to stay safe. Vince, when I got right down to it, was my world. I could barely remember life before I met him, let alone imagine life after he'd gone. I closed my eyes and tried, but I couldn't envisage a world without his sparkly, cheery presence by my side. Vince was like sunshine, that late-afternoon glow which creeps through the clouds to bring you joy and keep you warm. Where there was darkness, Vince would be fussing about his looks, making cheery quips and grinning optimistically. Under normal circumstances, anyway. Now the darkness had fallen, and he'd been dimmed to the dying glow of a star's last moments. It hurt, seeing my best friend that way. Something big was going on, something I didn't understand. I didn't want to force him to tell me, but the longer I went without knowing, the longer I spent my nights tossing and turning, unable to sleep with worry or held in the grip of terrifying dreams that dissolved as soon as I opened my eyes. I stood up and went over to the back window, opening it wide to let in the cool air. I looked down at the garden, where one of the artists was using an electric saw to cut large pieces of copper. Sparks flew up, and I stared at them, mesmerised by the tiny, glowing points of light sailing across the scenery.

Four o clock came and went. Then four fifteen. Then four thirty. I stared at my watch, agitated. Finally, at four forty-two, Vince sauntered in, looking dishevelled and tired. I didn't say anything about his bad timekeeping. He had said four-_ish_ after all. But something was off.

"Vince?" I asked cautiously. "Are you alright?" He considered for a moment.

"No." He eventually conceded, his voice husky. "No, I don't think I am."

"What's wrong, what happened? Was it Alena?"

"No."

"Was it Finley?" Again he considered for a while.

"Could have been."

"Can I have a look at you? I want to make sure you're okay."

"Mmm." He blinked slowly and opened his eyes wide. I took a step closer and looked at them, frowning. They were red and bloodshot, like he'd been crying again. And there was a strange odour coming off him, of smoke and… something else. Something worse. Suddenly, it all clicked into place. I put two and two together and arrived at a complex figure with six decimal places and an unsolvable unknown.

"Oh, no. No." I shook my head, trying to dislodge the thought from my brain. No. Vince would never... he'd be too innocent… but this place had taken his innocence away. And all the signs were there. The red eyes, the smell, the strange behaviour. "Vince, what did you smoke?"

"I dunno, Howard. Prob'ly weed. That's what it started as, maybe they've gimme somthin' stronger now."

"Oh, no. How long has this been going on?"

"'Bout a month."

"Jesus. Vince, you mustn't go back to them, alright? You can't keep doing this, you'll get addicted, and then-"

"S'too late for that, Howard. I told you; you can't help me. I'm gone." A bit of clarity seemed to seep through to his baffled mind, and I saw a tear in his eye. He blinked it away as I said:

"No, you're not. I can help you, Vince. Or if not me, someone. A doctor, anything. Anyone."

"No, Howard." He said more firmly. "No one."

"Who started it? Who gave you it first?"

"I dunno, maybe Finley, I don't remember."

"Right." I made for the door, but Vince grabbed my arm.

"No, don't!" He almost shouted it, his big eyes wide and full of tears. He looked like a scared little kid, like Alice lost in a dark and dangerous Wonderland. "Please, Howard." He pleaded, much softer now. "Please, if you go after Finley, he'll make our lives a misery. He'll hurt you, and then I'll be alone. Please." I stepped away from the door, but Vince held onto my arm, looking down intently at the ground. I hugged him close and said:

"Why didn't you tell me, little man?"

"I thought you'd be mad."

"I am, but not at you. I'm mad at the person that introduced you to it."

"They made me, Howard." He started to sob. "I said no, but they made me." I began to rub his back, trying to soothe him as he cried. He began to make a high-pitched keening noise that I'd never heard come from a human. It was animalistic, instinctual; like he couldn't help it. It took a long time for him to calm down, and by then, his eyes were even redder. I told him to go to bed, to sleep it off a bit. He nodded and lay down, not bothering to change. It took a while, but as soon as I was satisfied that he was asleep, I went down the stairs, my face creased into an ever-deepening scowl. I reached the second floor studio and marched in. Finley was across the room with Alena; they were laughing over something. Within seconds I was looming over Finley, fists clenched.

"You bastard. You son of a bitch. There aren't enough insults on the planet to describe you." I said in disgust.

"Well, well. Howard. Vince's mate? Yeah. You shouldn't be here." He smiled at me, and the glint in his eye made my stomach turn.

"You shouldn't be introducing my best friend to drugs!" I snapped. "He just came upstairs to me and had a breakdown. And he's being doing that for a month, on his own. He was too scared to tell me in case you hurt one of us!"

"Really?" He said sarcastically. "I'm touched. How sweet; the two of you, _looking out_ for each other." He took a step closer to me. "How special do you think you are, Howard? You aren't that important to him, are you? He'd rather be down here than with you."

"That's because you are the one giving him the drugs that he's addicted to! What do you want him for anyway?"

"He's my pet. My little performing monkey. Isn't he... hmm, what's the word? Ah. Weak. I think-" I didn't get to hear what he thought, as I punched him in the face. He fell over, knocking over a weird sculpture. The crash made everyone in the room turn and stare. Finley sat up, rubbing his face. "Got a good arm on you, eh? Still, I'm sure mine are better." He jumped up and flung himself at me, fists moving faster than I could keep up with. I got in another punch, and blood began to drip from his nose. But he was winning, I could feel it. As soon as he began to slow down, I threw in one last-ditch attempt. It connected with his cheekbone, and he fell back again. He was still. So was everyone else in the room, glaring at me with a kind of malevolent, grudging respect. Only Alena spoke.

"Howard, what are you doing? Run!" I came to my senses and did as she said. I heard light footsteps behind me on the stairs and realised she was following me. When we reached the room, I sat down on the floor and pressed a hand to my cheek. Finley wore a gold ring, and it had cut me. Alena sat in front of me.

"What happened earlier, with Vince?" I explained my figuring out of Vince's problem, and the subsequent anguish. She looked guiltily at the floor, and I realised something.

"Hang on." I said. "That means you knew all along!" She looked up at me and nodded.

"I'm sorry, Howard. I wanted to tell you when you came to see me. The point is, Finley did this to me as well. He offered me drugs and kept giving them until I was addicted. Then he started making me pay. I daresay a little bit of your weekly money goes towards this. I only tried to persuade Vince because Finley was sitting there with a little leery smile and those creepy fucking eyes. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ever let you come here; you'd be better off on the streets." I looked away from her, unable to make eye contact.

"I understand. You should go now. Get back and see whether Finley's awake." She nodded sadly and walked away. I went and sat down on the camp bed, gingerly feeling my face. It felt battered, but I'd survive. And it was worth it to knock that prick out. Suddenly, there was a groan and Vince opened his eyes again.

"Howard, what are you doing?"

"Nothing, Vince. Go back to sleep." He looked at me properly and I saw the confusion in his eyes turn to anger.

"Howard, what the fuck did you do?"

"What does it look like I did?"

"You went down there, didn't you? You picked a fight with him when I told you not to! And you fucking lost!"

"No, Vince, I did not lose. I knocked him out, I'll have you know!"

"It doesn't matter, does it? We're doomed in any case."

"Why, what will he do to you?"

"I don't fucking know, that's the problem!" He shouted.

"I'm sorry Vince, I was just-"

"Just trying to protect me, I know, big deal. Instead, you've ruined my life. Thanks a lot." He stood up and headed for the door.

"Vince, no, I'm sorry!" I called after him.

"Fuck off!" He shouted. I could hear his voice crack a little.

"Vince-" I followed him out to the stairwell, but he was already on the next floor down. I knew he would go back. Back to Alena, back to Finley. And worst of all, back to the drugs.

**Well, so much for no angst. Sorry about that.**

**Also, thanks to GrowlyNoir for giving me the idea of having Howard punch Finley. Reviews are pure awesome.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: All I can really say about this chapter is that I'm sorry for what happens in it. It made _me_ sad.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mighty Boosh.**

Vince's POV

When I stormed off, I had nowhere to go. I still wasn't totally clean; my thoughts were slightly fuzzy, like when you're just starting to get drunk. I thought I should go to Finley, but then I remembered, and I decided against it. I went to the second floor, and peered around the door, trying to stay unnoticed. Finley was nowhere to be seen. I stepped through the door quietly, noticing the crowd of people around someone lying on the floor. Ah. _That_ was where Finley was. The only person who wasn't glued to his side was Alena, standing with her head bowed near the window. I tapped my boot heel on the doorframe and she looked up. I beckoned her over silently. She joined me and pushed me out of view of the door.

"Vince, are you okay?" she gasped.

"Alena, of course I'm not, you should know that." She grimaced.

"I know, sorry; force of habit. Where's Howard?" I closed my eyes and sighed.

"I left him behind. He got in a fight with Finley."

"I know, I was watching."

"Yeah, well I told him not to. He'll kill us now."

"Howard was just looking out for you."

"I know, I know, why does everyone keep _saying_ that?" I turned and kicked the rusty railings around the stairs, then took a deep breath and leant on them. "Look," I said, "I have to get out of here. I can't deal with it, I'm dying. Can you help me? You can come too!" She looked away and shook her head.

"No, Vince. You know the situation. Finley's the one with the drugs."

"We can quit! Or, or... I dunno. He can't be the only dealer in the city."

"What about Howard?"

"Fuck Howard. He deserves whatever Finley's got in store for him." Alena stared at me.

"Vince, this isn't you." she said. "I know the drugs have changed you, but... You were a sweet guy, with that gleaming smile and those beautiful eyes. Now you're cruel, you never smile; your eyes are always staring into other worlds. What happened?" I sighed and looked back at her.

"This place happened. But you're right. This isn't me."

"No. You love Howard; you two are inseparable. Go and talk to him, Vince."

"Yeah. I will. Don't let Finley come after me tonight."

"I don't think he'll be coming after _anyone_ tonight. He's still out cold."

"Howard's got a good punch." I ran back up the stairs to our room. But when I reached it, it was empty. The window was wide open, and my stomach did a flip. Fearing the worst, I looked out and down at the ground below. But there was nothing there. I was confused by Howard's disappearance. He hadn't gone down past the second floor; we would have seen him pass. I wanted to find him, and the logical place seemed to be our floor. Sure enough, ten minutes later, I found him on the balcony. I watched in horror as his shoulders shook. He was crying. He'd never cried in front of me. Ever. I did a double take, checking it was him, then sidled up next to him. He didn't notice me until I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Howard?" I said softly. "I'm here, Howard." He turned and I hugged him tightly. We stayed there for a long time. We were spending too much time trying to stop each other cry lately. Why should we have to? I was destroying myself, and I was destroying Howard too. I was wrong. Howard didn't deserve what Finley would do to him. He had been honouring his promise, looking after me when I needed it. Now he needed me, and it was my turn to honour him.

* * *

That night, Howard was lying in bed, snoring gently. I was on the other side of the room, letting my tears fall silently. When I asked myself what I was crying about, I realised the answer was, simply, everything. I knew what this would lead to. I was doing it before I even noticed; looking for a blade. The unconscious, instinctual part of my mind was taking over, and I couldn't do anything about it. My eyes began the search for any flash of silver in the room. They alighted on my razor. But no, I needed it. Howard had one, but I didn't want to steal his. He'd have a spare though. Howard had a spare of everything. Sure enough, when I searched his case, there was a razor, still in its packaging. I took it out and looked at it. Three thin, sharp blades. I ran my thumb over them and looked at the three lines left behind on my skin. How to remove the blades? I thought if I stood on it, the plastic casing would break. I tried it. The head broke off, but the blades were held in their places by a strip of metal at each end. I used a fingernail to loosen the end, swearing quietly as it broke. Then I could bend the metal and take it off one end. The blades fell out when I turned it upside-down. I held them in my palm. It was odd to think that such innocent looking objects could be so sharp. I put two of the blades with the secret stash of money under the mattress. The other I held in my hand as I walked over to the far corner of the room. I sat down on the bare floor and took off my jumper. I was still almost hypnotised by the glint of moonlight on the blade. I held it to my wrist, ready to cut. But then I realised how obvious that would be. Get a cut on your wrist and suddenly everyone thinks you're self-harming. So I held it further up my arm. I had it ready in my hand. I tested how much it hurt to just scratch myself. It stung a little, but not much. So I levelled the blade and cut deep. First was the immediate feeling of release; of turning intangible mental pain into something I could feel, something I could see. Then I felt the physical pain, and it wasn't so releasing anymore. It stung so much more than the tiny scratch. But I forgot everything when I saw the blood. It started off in a small patch of the cut, then pooled up in the corners, before dripping down my arm in a red stream. I was slightly in awe of what I had done, of the fact that I had done this myself; that was _my_ blood running down my arm, dribbling onto my jeans... The full reality of how deep I had cut hit me, and I swore. I racked my brains. What did you do to a deep cut...? You put pressure on it with a bandage or something. I didn't know what to do and I was panicking, so I picked up my jumper and pressed it hard to my arm. It hurt the cut even more, but I knew I had to do it. I closed my eyes, breathing heavily. My conscious mind was back in control now, and it wasn't keen on this. I didn't know what I should do with it. Should I tell someone? Maybe wake Howard? But no. I couldn't do that. I knew that it would hurt him even more to know that I was hurting myself. I stared down at the blade where I had abandoned it on the floor, a small droplet of blood sitting beside it. I picked up the blade and looked at the window. I wanted to throw it out, but I knew I wouldn't be able to. I knew this wouldn't be the last time this happened. I could tell that this wouldn't be enough. I moved the jumper to look at the cut. The bleeding was slower now, but the cut was deep. It looked like the sort of cut that you need stitches for. I wasn't going to get any of those, of course. I wasn't going to tell anyone.

It took thirty-five long and frightening minutes for the bleeding to stop, by which time I also had pain in my other arm from holding the jumper for so long. I inspected the cut. It still looked too long, too deep. But it had helped, a little. It released me for a moment. And sometimes a moment was all I needed. To sort out how I felt before the default depression set in. I unrolled my jumper and looked at it.

"Oh, god." I whispered. "How do I explain that?" it was full of creases where I had held it so tightly, and the other side was covered with patches of dark red. The last shred of reality I hadn't yet grasped hit me in the face like a sledgehammer.

_Look at yourself_, I thought. _You're doing yourself in. Taking drugs and cutting. This place is going to kill you, you know. _

I bowed my head and looked at the blood spot on my pale jeans. I knew Howard would notice if I looked like this when he woke up. But I didn't know what else to do, where else to go. If I went down to Finley, surely I would just be in a world of pain. I couldn't decide whether that would be worse than the guilt trip I would get from making Howard even more worried than he already was. I sat down in the middle of the floor, hugging my knees, wincing as the skin around the cut pulled tight. I realised that I was shaking hard, like I was cold. I pulled the jumper on, but it made no difference. I was shaking from the pain and from the fear of what I had just done. I knew Howard would go mad. But I needed him for now. Maybe after that, I could leave him to get on with his life without me.

**So... yeah. Tell me what you think. And I'm sorry if it's unrealistic. I did my best.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I have really got to stop with the angst. Next new fic I write will be less angsty, I promise. But I'll wait till I finish this one first. Anyway, this chapter switches POV in the middle, but I'm sure you'll understand it, you're all intelligent people. You have to excuse the fact that everything is so down-in-the-dumps with this. I use my writing to vent my feelings, and I've had a crappy summer so far. People bitching about my best friends, for example, then turning on me. Yet another reason why Howard punched Finley in the face. Enough about me. Read on, my friend...**

**Disclaimer: I own none of this. Nothing. Not even this full stop.**

Howard's POV

I knew there was something wrong as soon as I woke up. Vince was sitting in the middle of the floor, his knees tucked up beneath his chin, eyes wide open as he stared at nothing.

"Vince?" I whispered. No answer. I said it a little louder. "Vince." His head jerked up and he looked me in the eye. "What happened, Vince? Did you go back?" He shook his head.

"No, Howard. S'worse than that." He stood up on shaking legs and I saw the bloodstains on his jumper.

"Oh, my god. Vince, what happened? Who did that?" I sat up and looked him up and down in terror.

"It was me." He ducked his head and wouldn't look me in the eye. I stood up and went over to him, but he kept his face turned away. I lifted his chin so he was looking me in the eye.

"Vince. Show me." He reluctantly took off his jumper, discarding it on the dusty floor. He pulled up his t-shirt sleeve to show an angry gash at the top of his arm.

"I'm sorry, Howard. It just happened." He looked at me, his eyes devoid of emotion, like he couldn't feel anything now.

"Don't apologise to me. It isn't me who's suffering. Why did you do it?"

"I just… I felt like… I'm not sure. It was like it was programmed into my brain, and someone let it out, and it was automatic."

"It's gonna be alright, little man. We're gonna fix this, you know that." I hugged him, trying to comfort him somehow. But I couldn't. I knew that, and so did he. He didn't move in my arms, just stood with his hands down by his sides. He whispered:

"This isn't right, Howard."

"What?" He pulled away from me and looked up into my eyes.

"That you should have to comfort me all the time. You promised to protect me, and you've done it way too much lately. You keep trying to make it better, but you can't. No one can. No one except me. I have to sort this out on my own, Howard."

"No, you don't. I told you I'm always here, and I am. I won't abandon you for this."

"Howard. Please." He knitted his fingers together and gestured towards me like he was praying. "There's something going on with Finley, and I don't want you involved."

"I think it's too late for that."

"You know what I mean. I need to go and stay with him now. I need to stay away from you."

"Why?" I demanded. He sighed and closed his eyes.

"Howard, when you promised to protect me, _I_ promised to protect _you_. I've not needed to yet. But Finley will kill you for what you did to him. If I go to him, he'll lose interest in you. He can have much more fun with me. But, Howard, I won't be able to come back, or he'll start on you."

"Never?"

"No. Unless we get rid of him somehow, and I don't know how we could do that." I sighed deeply, feeling tears form in my eyes. So this was it. The end of what we'd preserved for so long was going to come because I punched a madman in the face. But I knew Vince was right. I didn't _deserve_ to be protected, but I did think Vince would be safer away from me. Finley would get fed up with him after a while, and then he would still have Alena. Better that he be safe with her than still facing a threat with me. So I nodded slowly.

"Alright. Are you taking your stuff?"

"Some of it. I'll come back for the rest soon."

"And you're going now? This morning?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"No, I understand. Gather up what you're taking." He nodded and began to collect up his art materials and a few clothes, packing them haphazardly in his suitcase. Then he turned to me.

"I have to say goodbye too much nowadays." He said.

"Then don't say it. This isn't the end, Vince. You know it isn't." I replied.

"It's the end for now. So I guess I should say it. Goodbye Howard. I'll miss you more than anything."

"I'll miss you as well." I hugged him tightly. "And remember: You're the sunshine kid. You can never forget that."

"No. I won't." He picked up his case and walked out of the room, not turning back. I noticed his jumper still on the floor where he had left it. I wanted to run and give it to him. But I didn't think he would want it. It was covered in his blood, where he'd tried to stop the bleeding, I assumed. I picked it up and looked at it. Then I screwed it up and threw it onto the camp bed, trying to ignore the hurt.

Vince's POV

When I walked into the studio, almost everyone turned to look. Of course, they would. They all knew who I was now. And they knew Finley would have it in for me. I put my suitcase down just inside the door and walked over to Alena. I tried not to let the terror show. She put an arm around me and rubbed my shoulder.

"I guess it didn't work?" She said quietly.

"It worked fine." I replied. "I had to leave him behind. He's safer without me."

"What do you mean?"

"With me here, Finley'll leave Howard alone." She was quiet for a minute.

"I hate to say it, but I think you're right."

"Where is he, anyway?"

"He's gone out to get something." We didn't need to say what that something was. We both knew that he'd gone to get drugs, which he would sell to us.

"Come outside with me?" I asked. She nodded, and we went downstairs and out of the back door. She picked up a jacket on the way to stay warm. We went and sat down on the bench beside the now-dead fire. I shivered in the cool morning air, realising I had left my jumper back in our room. Alena looked at me with wide eyes and said:

"Vince, what happened to your arm?" I tugged my t-shirt sleeve down a little further.

"Nothing."

"That isn't nothing. You've not been injecting or something, have you?"

"No, don't be stupid."

"Good. That stuff is way more serious than what we're doing."

"Is it, though? It's probably no more addictive than what we're on. And anyway, how do we know we're just smoking weed? Finley could be dosing us up on anything. How would we know?"

"I… What do you mean _anything_?"

"He could be putting crack in there. We'd be too out of it to know any different. We're in trouble, Alena. I don't know what to do."

"Me neither, Vince. If I did, I'd have been out of here long ago." I nodded and shivered again. "Don't you have a jumper?" She asked.

"I left it in our room. I don't dare go back up there."

"Do you want mine?"

"No. Keep it. Should be the other way around, anyway."

"What, you should be offering your jacket to me?"

"Yeah. Like a gentleman."

"Vince, you're a lot of things. Gentleman has never been one of them. No offence."

"None taken. I know I'm not always as polite as I should be. I don't think about it."

"It's alright. You should be what you are, not what people want you to be."

"My friend said that to me before we left."

"Who's that?"

"His name's Naboo. He always looked after me and Howard, always got us out of trouble. It's a shame he isn't here. He'd have known what to do."

"Would he?"

"Yeah. He's really, really clever. He knows almost everything. And he's always got a remedy for your problems, although sometimes it's just a fake one. He uses trickery to make you believe in it."

"Like a placebo?"

"Yeah, I guess. And then there was Bollo. He was always there with a big gorilla hug for me."

"You mean a bear hug?"

"No, a gorilla hug. He looked after me as well. They were the best."

"What about Howard? He looked after you too."

"Yeah. And now I'm looking after him by keeping Finley away from him. We made a promise to each other that first night. Neither of us are going to break it."

"Okay. As long as you know what you're doing."

"I do. At least, I hope I do."

**Reviews would be the loveliest thing ever.**

**PS. Anyone else watch Russell Brand's show about drug addiction? I found it very moving and very honest; it helped me see the world from another point of view. Also, it was nice to see someone who shared my opinion on drug addiction and how it should be dealt with; as an illness instead of a crime.**

**PPS. I'm thinking about changing my pen name, since it doesn't really go with the themes of my story. My name on nearly every other site is WearerOfCapes, so I may change it to that. What d'you think?**

**I really am going now. Much Love x**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello. Somewhat shorter chapter this time, because, as the name suggests, this is just an interval. And also because I have lost the ability to write in the third person. Hopefully this won't be quite as dark as previous chapters, since we now have shamans. It's still fairly dark. But with the bright pink form of Tony Harrisin lighting the way, it will be better. So, I hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: I can't have it all, can I? I don't own the Mighty Boosh.**

Interlude

The shamans sat at their table, engaged in an argument as usual.

"It's an outrage!" Tony Harrison waved his tentacles in disgust. "We can't be expected to drop everythin' to please your human pals!"

"It's not to please 'em. It's to save 'em."

"Nevertheless, we cannot leave our duties to one side to deal with your pets." Saboo argued.

"Vince not pet!" Bollo said aggressively. "Vince precious flower!"

"And what of the other one?" Dennis interjected. "The stupid-looking one."

"The one that looks like you, you mean." Naboo replied.

"How dare you! I look nothing like him!"

"Yeah you do."

"I am my own person! I do not look like anyone."

"Just shut up, Dennis." The head shaman glared in disgust, but listened to what Naboo had to say. "Vince and Howard are stuck in an artists' squat. Vince is havin' drug problems and Howard's being 'is usual ballbag self. I need somethin' to sort 'em out."

"And how did these problems arise, exactly?" Saboo said. "Oh, wait, could it be because he is an idiot to use the drugs in the first place?"

"Peer pressure, you numbskull. There's a bloke in this squat- real nasty piece o' work. Finley Cameron, 'is name is."

"Is he a demon?" Dennis asked.

"No, just a human. Drug dealer. He took a liking to Vince, and now they're both in trouble."

"Nah, nah, nah." Tony Harrison insisted. "You got it all wrong. He can't be human; the police'd get 'im."

"Well, no one's caught on to 'im yet. I don't know if they ever will." He looked around at the assembled shamans, even Kirk, who was staring at a space three feet to the left of Naboo's head. "All I want is for you lot to help me make this potion. It'll help Vince when he comes back to me."

"How do you know he ever will come back to you?" Saboo demanded. "How do you even know all of this for sure?"

"I know more than you realise, Saboo. I 'ave visions. I saw Vince the other night. He hurt 'imself. I'll get 'im back. You wait." He pulled a list of items out of his robe pocket and threw them onto the table. "This is what we need. You won't be able to get all this from Shamansbury's. You might 'ave to go to Eurostretcher, and some of it'll have to come straight from the forest."

"Very well." Dennis said. "I suggest that I go to Shamansbury's, as I am most familiar with it. Saboo, you will take Tony Harrison with you to Eurostretcher."

"Aw, not again." Tony whined. "I always get stuck with 'im, he's a nutjob."

"I agree. Can I not go alone?" Saboo asked.

"No, we don't want 'im either." Naboo said.

"Outrage." Tony muttered. "Total outrage."

"Shut up. Kirk can help us look for the forest items."

"Kirk can't help you!" Dennis said. "He's off his head. Look at him; he's staring into another dimension." Naboo nodded.

"Kirk, is it true that you take fifty tabs of acid a day, and that after this you can win a staring contest with a painting?" He asked. Kirk nodded.

"Yes."

"Dennis, take 'im with you, make sure he doesn't cause trouble."

"Who made you head shaman?" Dennis asked indignantly.

"No one. I got a job that needs doin', and I'm gettin' it done."

"Fine. Come, Kirk." They made their way off through the trees. Saboo picked up a complaining Tony Harrison and unrolled the magic carpet. They got settled and took off into the night, their petulant voices fading to the wind. Naboo sighed, and Bollo patted his shoulder.

"Idiots. All of 'em, idiots. Why did I ever come to this planet?"

"Was a mistake." Bollo said.

"And I don't know if they really know how to help me. What if they get the wrong ingredients and it doesn't work?"

"Don't worry. Shamansbury's very clearly labelled."

"What about Eurostretcher?"

"I don't know. Stupid name, anyway. Sounds like what they carry off injured footballers on."

"What're we gonna do, Bollo? It's gonna go wrong."

"No, will be fine. Vince strong. Vince will be fine."

"This is my fault, Bollo. I didn't pay the bills, and now Vince is-" He broke off and sat bolt upright. He stared at nothing. Bollo rolled his eyes. Visions again. They had been coming every day for the past week; way more often than usual. Naboo stayed still for a long moment. Then he loosened up and stared at Bollo in horror.

"This is worse than I thought. Something big's gonna happen, and it'll be Vince in the firing line."

"What will happen?" Bollo asked in a panic.

"I can't see it properly. He won't survive if someone doesn't help him, though."

"We will help him."

"No, Bollo. We've 'ad run-ins with Finley, he'll recognise us!"

"Then who?" Bollo bellowed. Naboo put his head down on the table for a moment. Thinking.

"Howard."

"Who?"

"Howard!" Naboo sat up. "Howard'll have to help him, won't he?"

"Thought you said they were staying away?"

"They 'ave to go back to each other!" he shouted desperately. "It's Vince and Howard! They're always together, they don't leave each other's sides, they have to sort themselves out, or Vince is gonna die! I can't-" Bollo placed a hairy hand over Naboo's mouth.

"Shh." He said. "Vince will be fine. Harold help him."

"Howard." Naboo mumbled.

"Shh." Bollo moved his hand and rubbed Naboo's back.

"You're treatin' me like Vince."

"Well, Naboo precious flower also."

"Thanks, Bollo, but I don't go in for soppiness." He got up. "Come on, we need some herbs." He consulted his list. "We need Jack-go-to-bed-at-noon."

"What the hell is that?"

"It's a herb." They walked off into the forest together, the dark shadows cast by the trees enveloping them in blackness until they were invisible.

**Reviews are amazing. Hugely better than, for instance, waking up with a spider on your face. Like I did the other day.**

**Much Love x**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Back to first person again. I don't really know what to say about this story anymore. Except that it's angsty and I'm not sure I like it. I'll keep on with it though, because I've got it all sorted out now and I know where it's going. I hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: NO.**

Howard's POV

The weeks passed, and Vince's possessions slowly began to disappear from our room. He came when I was asleep, took a couple more things, and left half the money he'd made from selling his artwork. He was always quiet. I only saw him once, when he knocked over the easel, waking me up. I let him think I was still asleep, and watched him. He crept around slowly and cautiously, picking up a discarded shirt and a few pencils. In the end, he walked back to the door. I turned over to I could see him go, and he looked at me. I could see his eyes gleaming even in the darkness. Then he turned around and left me listening to his light footsteps on the stairs. He'd been back several times since then. But by late November, everything that Vince owned was gone. Apart from his jumper, still blood-stained and reminding me of him. Winter was descending quickly, and the artists were beginning to worry. There was no heating. Talks of stocking up on blankets and extra clothes were happening everywhere. And I looked at Vince's jumper every day. He didn't have another one. He must have been freezing. And after a long time deliberating, I made a decision. I found some of the money Vince had left me, picked up the jumper, and walked down the stairs. I had to get it washed for him. I went to the nearest laundrette fairly often; wearing dirty clothes wasn't an option. I'd never thought of taking the jumper before. I got a shock when I opened the back door, as the wind was cutting. Snow was falling heavily, beginning to gather in corners and settle on the roads. I was glad of my own jacket. I made my way to the laundrette quickly; keen to get out of the elements. It was a relief to step into the warm, damp, fabric-softener scented air. I threw the jumper into a washing machine, put my money in, and sat down to wait for the cycle to finish.

Finally, the light on the machine flicked on, and I took out the jumper. It was warm and dry, and I held it out to study it. The bloodstains had mostly come out, although there was a faint shadow in one place where one had been. It was still very creased, but I figured Vince would just be thankful for something to wear. I left the laundrette and headed back towards the squat. My thoughts turned to Vince quickly. It had been a long time since we'd spoken. Almost two months. Everything was sort of fading now. I was learning to live without the emotions. I missed him. I missed him more than I missed jazz, or even the flat. He had been there when nothing else was. I wanted him back. But I couldn't show it. Who could I show it to? I spoke to Jane in the room next door if I saw her, and Alena came to see me sometimes. That was all. I didn't see the point in telling them. Jane wouldn't understand, and I got the feeling I wouldn't need to tell Alena. The way she looked at me, I thought she probably knew. She had visited me a few days before, as Finley was out again, and Vince didn't dare go anywhere:

_"How are you doing?" she had asked. I just shrugged. "Okay. I should have guessed that. You'll be alright, Howard. You're getting by alright, aren't you?"_

_"I suppose so. I'm more worried about Vince than myself."_

_"He's alright, I think. He seems to be feeling a bit better about himself now. But, Howard, there are scars on his arms-"_

_"I know. He cut himself. I'm surprised you only just noticed."_

_"Can't we help him?"_

_"I don't know how. I don't dare go near him anyway."_

_"I know. It'll be alright. You'll both be fine. You'll see."_

I felt like I was blind, because I wasn't seeing yet. I knew I had to be patient. But although I didn't let it out, I was frustrated. I was tired of waiting. Waiting didn't do anything; you had to make things happen. One of us had to do something about it. One of us had to pluck up the courage.

* * *

When I reached the squat again, I stopped at the second floor and looked through the door for Vince. I didn't see him, but he could have been in there without me seeing. I was too scared to go in. But someone was heading this way. I stopped the female artist as she walked by.

"Excuse me," I said, "Have you seen Vince anywhere?"

"Vince? Who's Vince?"

"My friend? Hangs around with Finley and Alena."

"Can you describe him?"

"A bit shorter than me, skinny, longish black hair?"

"Oh. Yeah, I think I know who you mean. Always looks a bit scared?"

"Probably. You seen him anywhere?"

"Last time I saw him, he was in this workshop, but he's gone now."

"Oh. Thanks for your time, anyway." I headed up to the next floor. No one there had seen him either. Eventually, I got back to our room. Nobody in the whole place knew where he was. I hadn't even had a chance sighting. There wasn't anywhere else... Unless he was in the garden. Surely not, not in the snow without a jumper? I shook my head, but headed out there. I didn't see him at first; he had found a good place. There were only two trees in the garden, tall birch trees. One was up against the wall. He was sitting in the fork of the low branches next to the wall, making him almost invisible from the building. I noticed he was wearing someone else's cardigan; it was too big and baggy for him. He was chewing vacantly on the sleeve as he stared into space. He didn't see me approaching until I was right next to him, and I made him jump.

"Howard?" he asked.

"Hey, Vince." I tried a smile. His face went from sad and dark to bright with smiles. Funny how after all that had happened, he could still summon that trademark grin, even if it was a little shaky.

"I've missed you, Howard."

"I've missed you too."

"But what if Finley sees us?" his smile faded.

"Don't worry about that, Vince. I brought you something."

"What is it?" I held out his jumper. His eyes widened.

"You washed it for me. Thank you."

"Whose is the one you've got on now?"

"I don't know. Alena gave me it earlier, but it's too big to be hers."

"Yeah. Do you mind if I sit with you?"

"No, come on." he moved along the branch so I could sit next to him. "How have you been?" He asked.

"Oh, you know... Okay, I think."

"It's been hard for you too, then?" He asked, looking at me intently. It was only then that I realised how terrible he looked. His cheeks were hollow; he had dark circles under his eyes; the eyes themselves looked teary.

"Vince, what's happened to you?" I asked. "You look-"

"I look like shit. I know." he sighed. "I don't know me anymore. I look in a mirror, and I don't recognise myself. I'm not me anymore, Howard. I'm what's left behind, that's all."

"Vince, we're going to get through this, you know that? We're gonna get ourselves sorted out."

"No we aren't. You have to accept that this is it now. This is how I'm gonna end."

"Vince, don't talk like that. I'm not going to let that happen."

"But, Finley..."

"Fuck Finley. He isn't right in the head. Come here." I hugged him and he leant on me, clinging to my jacket like it was keeping him from floating away. I stroked his hair, knowing it comforted him. He buried his face in my shoulder and didn't move for a long time. I just held him, trying to support him. But I had to say something.

"Come back, Vince. Come back to me." I whispered. He finally looked up with frightened eyes.

"I can't. I'm better off with Finley. And so are you, better off without me putting your life in danger."

"Vince, the only life you're endangering now is your own. The longer you stay with him, the more likely that something terrible happens to you."

"I know. But I don't want it to happen to you instead. I want you to be safe."

"I am safe. Please, Vince. Come back. I need you."

"No you don't, Howard." he said sadly. "I can't come back. I have to stay. I'm sorry." he jumped down from the branch and I followed him, still holding his jumper.

"Vince-"

"No." he spun around and looked at me from under his eyelashes. "I wish I could. I want to. We're both better off like this."

"At least take your jumper." I held it out to him again.

"Yeah. Thank you." he took it in both arms.

"You're welcome." He started walking back to the doors.

"We need to keep meeting up, Vince." I called after him. He stopped, turned around, and nodded.

"I'll come and see you." he said.

"Soon?" I asked hopefully.

"Maybe." he carried on walking. I watched as he disappeared into the building without turning back. I was slightly in shock, and I didn't know what to do. So I went back to the tree, sat back down, and stared at the half finished sculptures. Wishing Vince had accepted my offer. Wishing Finley had never started on him. Wishing none of this had ever happened.

**Reviews would be fantabulous, if you feel like it. Much love x :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I'm going to make this quick, cause my internet keeps going down AGAIN. Stupid stupid BT. I don't really know what to say about this chapter, just that I don't like it much. I hope you like it, even if I don't.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh.**

Vince's POV

I went back to the studio with my jumper clutched tightly in my arms. I stopped next to Alena and gave her the cardigan back.

"Don't you want it anymore?" she asked.

"I've got mine back." I replied, putting it on.

"How?"

"Howard gave me it; long story."

"Alright then. How is he?"

"He's-" I was interrupted by Finley.

"Vince! Over here." he shouted. I looked around and saw him sitting across the room in front of a desk. I went over reluctantly.

"Hi, Finley." I mumbled.

"Vince." He looked up at me. "Why do you keep disappearing?" He said threateningly.

"Because I like to be alone." I replied slowly.

"No you don't. You hate being alone. If you think someone might leave you, you run after them like a little dog."

"I've changed."

"I noticed. Look at you. You look like Kate Moss on an off day."

"Why do you care?"

"I don't. Just pointing it out. Would also like to point out that I'm not blind."

"Why?"

"There's a window right here with a fantastic view of the garden. And I saw yours and Howard's little 'chat'."

"So what?" I said, secretly panicking.

"So, what the hell were you doing? You promised you wouldn't go near him."

"He kind of came to me..."

"Oh? Trying to shift the blame? For shame, Vince. For shame."

"Oh, stop being so bloody patronising!" I said loudly. I was losing my patience with Finley. He was the one keeping me away from Howard.

"Patronising? That's a big word for _you_ to use, isn't it?" he gave a sick grin.

"Finley. Two words. Fuck off." He raised his eyebrows and stood up.

"Fuck off? To the person keeping you alive? To the person giving you what you need the most? To the person who's done nothing but good for you?"

"Good? You're making my life hell! I want to live normally, and you're keeping me... Keeping me prisoner! I hate you!"

"And y'know what, Vince?" He tilted his head and smirked. "The feeling's fucking mutual." He drew his fist back to punch me. I just managed to lift my hands for protection before it hit. It still knocked me down. Alena ran over as Finley kicked me. She fought with him, trying to make him stop, and he finally let up. I stayed curled on the floor until she picked me up. She sat me down on the chair Finley had just vacated. The world was spinning. I was dizzy and my head hurt. How long had I been on the floor? It didn't seem to matter. I was vaguely aware of Alena running around putting my possessions into my suitcase. A moment later, she put it down in front of me and bent down to look at me.

"Vince, are you alright?" she asked.

"My head hurts."

"I'm not surprised. Can you see okay?" I looked around to test it.

"Um… Yeah."

"Can you walk?" I stood up and took a few steps.

"Yeah."

"Right, come on." She picked up my suitcase in her right hand and took my hand in her left.

"Where to?" I asked.

"Upstairs. You're going back to Howard."

"What? No, you can't-"

"I bloody well can. Come on." she tugged me towards the staircase.

"But Finley'll kill us!"

"He will not. I'll fight him myself if I have to. He's not hurting you, Vince."

"Thank you." I muttered.

"A pleasure." We reached the fifth floor and she pulled me into our room. Howard stood up from the bed and said:

"What's going on?"

"Finley finally got fed up with him. He punched him." Alena replied.

"Is this permanent?"

"Yeah." She held up my suitcase. "It's up to us now, Howard. I'm keeping Finley downstairs. You're looking after Vince. Deal?"

"Deal. Thank you." Alena nodded, put my suitcase down, and ran to the stairs again. I sat down on the camp bed, and Howard sat next to me.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"My head aches. I've just had the shit kicked out of me. I'd say no."

"I'm sorry, Vince. I should have been there again, and I wasn't."

"Howard, don't say sorry. The promise has been broken both ways. I wasn't protecting you while I was down there. I was makin' things worse, for both of us. It didn't work." I leant on his shoulder and closed my eyes. "I feel terrible."

"So do I, Vince." He turned around and put his arms around me, holding me close for the second time that day. I buried my face in his shirt, closed my eyes, and breathed him in. I was shaking, adrenaline still coursing through my bloodstream. It made me feel strange. But Howard held me, and it felt alright again. It felt like nothing mattered at all, for a while, at least. In the end, I was thinking about it all, and I had to face up to something. I had to think about the feelings I'd had all this time. Even if it was wrong, even if I couldn't show them to anyone else. It needed to be done. So I said it. Or whispered it, at least.

"I love you, Howard."

"Sorry?" He looked down at me.

"I love you." I repeated.

"Um. You mean that... In _that_ way?"

"Yes." I didn't look him in the eye. I couldn't.

"Vince... That's really good of you to say."

"D'you...?"

"I don't think... I mean, I love you too. But not like that. I love you like a best friend, like a brother. Not like that. Not as a lover."

"You mean you don't..."

"I don't love you, Vince. I'm sorry. I don't feel it."

"Oh." I was silent for a long time. I didn't know why I had said it. Why was I expecting him to feel the same as me? I had expected to be happy now that I had let it out. Instead I felt like I had been crushed. Howard noticed.

"Vince, I'm really really sorry about this. So sorry. Don't let it lead to you... You know. Cutting yourself."

"Mmm."

"How many times have you done it?" He asked.

"Look for yourself." I said softly. I took my jumper off and rolled up the sleeve of my t-shirt. My left arm was covered in scars, all fairly fresh, standing out from my skin, a tangle of cuts crossing over. The first scar was still there, reminding me of how long it had been since it began. Two months didn't seem like long until you were cutting yourself every day for that amount of time. The past few cuts were still there, fresh and stinging. Howard looked horrified.

"Vince, what..." He trailed off and shook his head mutely. He pressed his lips together tightly. Gently, he trailed a finger over the raised scars. I shivered at his touch and shied away.

"Vince, this has got to stop." He whispered.

"Don't." I shook my head. "You said that before, and I left you. Don't make that happen again."

"I'm not trying to make you leave. I just think you need help."

"I do. But I need _your_ help. No one else's. Just you."

"You need a doctor."

"I need a _friend_." I looked at him. He seemed to be looking for the right thing to say, but didn't seem to manage. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"I know you need a friend. And I'm here for you. But you _do_ need a doctor. And I can't do that."

"We need to get out of here before anything else."

"I know. Soon. We'll get out. That's a promise I won't break."

We went to bed early that night; Howard reckoned I needed the rest. I didn't agree, but I complied. It was easier than arguing, and besides, I didn't want to get into another fight with him. But after an hour or so, he was fast asleep, and I was lying in the dark staring at the ceiling. I was thinking about what had happened. I got the feeling Finley had been waiting to punch me for a while. It wasn't like I was really trying to be friendly to him. My head still hurt, and I could feel bruises where he'd kicked me. I just thought it was a bit sudden. Still, it was good of Alena to have looked after me and brought me back to Howard. I sighed and turned over to face the door. There was a faint silhouette there. My heart started to race, until it whispered:

"Vince? You awake?" It was Alena. Speak of the devil, I thought.

"Yeah." I replied, sitting up. She walked carefully through the dark room and sat on the camp bed next to me.

"Are you two doing alright?" She asked.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't we be?"

"Don't even go there. Finley's disappeared, I've been dreaming up nightmare scenarios in my head all day. I wanted to come and see you earlier, but the others kept asking me questions. Anyway. Are you and Howard getting on?"

"Well… yeah. Pretty much." She sighed.

"What happened?"

"Not much. It wasn't a big thing, or anythin'. Just a mistake."

"What did you say to him?" I hesitated and looked at the floor.

"I told him I loved him." I could just see her looking at me, her eyes wide.

"Oh, Vince. You silly boy." She hugged me. "It's alright. You're just confused at the minute. I bet if you explain it to Howard, he'll understand."

"I'm not confused, Alena." I pulled away from her. "I'm the least confused I've ever been. I finally know what's goin' on in my head, and I don't like it. But that was the clearest thing I've ever thought. I _do_ love 'im."

"What did he say?" She asked nervously.

"He said no. Obviously. He said he loves me like a brother, but that's all."

"Don't worry. It'll fade, Vince. Love does, if you let it."

"Does it?" I asked indifferently.

"Trust me. I used to love you, once. But I knew I didn't have a hope, so I let it fade. And now I'm just your friend."

"You loved me?"

"It was a long time ago." She smiled. "Anyway, I know you're not going to be getting anything from Finley now, so I cadged a spliff. Do you want it?" I nodded, and she handed me a roll-up and a lighter.

"Thanks."

"No problem. If you need me, you know where to come."

"Yeah, thank you."

"See you later, Vince." She got up from the bed.

"Yeah. Goodbye." She began to walk away, but stopped and turned around.

"Goodbye? You never say goodbye. You say 'see you later'." She frowned in confusion.

"I say goodbye when I know I won't see someone again for a long time."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure it won't be that long." She smiled and left the room. I shook my head, put the spliff in my mouth, and lit it up. As I breathed in the pungent smoke, I leant on the wall. Thoughts started spiralling around my brain, and I knew that this time, I couldn't avoid them.

**Reviews would be wonderful, my friends :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Well, I can't really say a lot about this one. Just that, once again, I'm sorry :(**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Boosh.**

Howard's POV

I woke up later that night, having gone to bed a bit too early and interrupted my sleeping patterns. My thoughts soon turned to Vince again. He was back now, back from the clutches of Finley. I was more happy than I could express, but I couldn't help but think that it would all become awkward after Vince's revelation earlier. I didn't understand how he could ever love me. Why would he? He was an example of the perfection people weren't sure existed. I knew it did because I had stared at him so often. But that was just because he was nice to look at. Not because I loved him. Not like that. I didn't know why he would want a freaky 'musician' anyway. Besides, we had known each other for far too long to consider a relationship. We knew everything about one another, including all the annoying and embarrassing things. It would never work. But I did wonder sometimes, what it would be like if we did go that little bit further. Ever since we'd kissed on the roof, I'd questioned myself and what I was. Even so. It wouldn't ever work. Not in a million years. I kept telling myself this as I dozed off again.

I was woken at about midnight by a loud thud. I frowned and switched on the light, but couldn't see anything from where I was. I stood up and walked towards the centre of the room. Whatever it was, it was in the corner. Suddenly I could see clearly, and my eyes took in several things at once. Blood. A blade. Paper. Vince. _Vince_.

"Vince!" I shouted, rushing over to him. There was no response. He lay on the floor in an uncomfortable position, t-shirt sleeves rolled up to his shoulders. His wrists were slashed in several places. I panicked immediately.

"Oh, no. Oh god. Vince, wake up. Wake up!" I shook him. He was limp. But still breathing. Just. "Help!" I yelled as loudly as I could, not caring who I woke, not caring who found out we were here. I shouted again, and Jane came running through to our room.

"Oh my god! What happened?" She gasped.

"What does it look like? Call an ambulance!"

"But they'll know we're here. Can't we just-"

"No! Please, do it, now!" she nodded, took her phone from her pocket and dialled 999. I tried to check Vince's pulse on his neck. I couldn't feel anything. I tried again, attempting to stay calm. I felt a slow, weak beat beneath my fingers. I held his hand, carefully.

"Come on, Vince. Stay with me. I need you. Keep breathing, keep breathing." I looked down at his wrists, still dripping blood. I realised I needed to try to staunch the flow. So I picked up my discarded jacket and pressed it to the wounds on his left wrist. Jane rushed over.

"The ambulance'll be about ten minutes." she said.

"Great. Now put pressure on his other arm."

"What with?"

"Anything!" she took off her dressing gown and did as I asked. It seemed like an age until two paramedics rushed into the room with a stretcher.

"Alright, we'll take over from here." One said. I backed off as they tried to patch him up a little. Then they loaded him onto the stretcher.

"Can I come with him in the ambulance?" I asked them.

"Are you direct family, sir?"

"Not exactly."

"Then I'm afraid not. You'll have to follow behind."

"But-"

"Sorry, those are the rules."

"Right. I won't be long." They nodded, picked up the stretcher and started down the stairs. Jane was standing in the corner, chewing her nails, looking scared.

"D'you think he'll be alright?" she asked.

"I don't know. I need to follow them. Are you coming?"

"No. I'm sorry. Hospitals scare me."

"I think after this they'll scare me." I picked up my keys, put some shoes on and made for the door. But something caught my eye. A piece of paper on the floor, its edge close the puddle of blood. I picked it up. It was folded over and over. And it had my name on it in Vince's skinny, scruffy handwriting. I pocketed it and ran down the stairs, out the back door and to the van. We hadn't used it for months, and I just prayed that there was enough petrol left to get me to the hospital.

When I arrived at the hospital, they wouldn't let me in until I filled out a form. It was about Vince, any health conditions he had, and any next of kin. I knew that wasn't a good sign. It meant they thought he could die. Eventually, they showed me through to a waiting area. I asked a doctor if I could go in.

"I'm afraid we're busy working on him now." He said.

"Well, how is he?" I asked.

"The signs are not wonderful, but he seems to be improving. He needs a blood transfusion. Those cuts were very deep."

"Yeah. I thought he might."

"Do you know if the wounds were... Self-inflicted?" I took a deep breath.

"Almost definitely. He's done it before. The scars on his left arm... That's where they've come from."

"And none of you reported this or sought medical help?"

"Look, Doctor, we've just been doing our best to survive. We've had probably the worst six months of our lives. It wasn't something that crossed our minds."

"Alright. If you take a seat, we'll keep you updated." I nodded and sat down on one of the uncomfortable metal chairs. I was still holding my blood-stained jacket. I put it down on the seat beside me and put my head in my hands. Was this my fault? For telling Vince that I didn't feel that way for him? Drugs were one thing; attempting suicide was another matter. And the way he was going, looked like he might manage it. But I couldn't feel it. I knew there was pain. I was numb. It felt like nothing mattered anymore. I was so sad and desperate that it hurt, but only in my head. Not in reality. And reality was what mattered... Wasn't it? I wasn't too sure anymore. I sat up straight and something crackled in my pocket. Vince's note. I pulled it out and unfolded it. It wasn't good paper; more the sort you get in children's exercise books, that soaks up ink and makes it bleed. But he'd used biro. Decent pens were never seen in the squat; they were too pretentious for the artists. I found the start of the scrawl and began to read.

* * *

_Dear Howard, I wanted to address this to everyone, but not everyone will care. Finley certainly won't. I barely know anyone else. Maybe Alena will care, a bit. But apart from her, it'll just be you, Howard. I know you'll care, because you promised you would. So this is just for you. Don't let anyone else read it. This is between you and me. If you're reading this note anyway, I'm either gone or so close it won't matter. And it's better that way. For me and you. I'm better off not living in a world where everything's so uncertain; whether you can trust someone, whether they'll hurt you, whether you'll live to see tomorrow. And you're better off not having to watch me all the time, making sure I'm okay, trying to keep me safe. Keeping me safe is like shutting the stable door after the horse has run. By the time you realised, Howard, I already might as well have been dead. Everything just went downhill from there. I said to myself, I'm walking the line. And then I crossed it. I guess I should explain why I did it, really. I know you'll want to know. And I know you'll be blaming yourself, too. Don't, Howard. You telling me you didn't love me like that, it hurt. But it wasn't why I did it. It might have been the trigger. Maybe that was what made all the past pains come back and overwhelm me. But it wasn't my reason. You've never given me a reason to think I was unwanted. You've always been there as my friend and you've never given up on me, even right up to tonight. To the very end. I'm glad I came back. I hope I spent my last moments with you. That's how it should be. And there are memories that I remembered as I wrote this that I want you to remember as you read it. Like when I saved you from monkey hell by giving the ape of death a perm. Or when you entered my bloodstream to kill off the jazz cell. We've saved each other so many times. And remember that time when we kissed on the roof, just so the head shaman didn't kill us? And everything went a bit weird, a bit wrong. Maybe if it had gone right, none of this would've happened. Maybe we'd be back in the flat, bored out of our minds, moaning about something or other. Maybe you and I could have gone somewhere. The point is, Howard, I can't see an end to the pain, not if I just leave it. So I decided to end it myself. And why not just take a lot of drugs, overdose, kill myself the easy way? Well, it's the pain. When I cut, I turn mental pain into physical pain, into something real. And I needed the release that gave me one last time. So I'm going to ask you something now. If you hold a funeral, don't let the church get too involved. They've had fuck all to do with my life and they'll have fuck all to do with my death. I want everyone to wear bright colours and carry lilies. Play Heroes by David Bowie, and make sure people aren't sharing sadness, they're sharing happy memories. I don't want this part of my life to be remembered. And lastly, make sure you tell Naboo. But not Bollo. He'll be sad. Let Naboo deal with him. Finally, Howard; I just want to say this. I love you, I really, truly do. I hope you remember me, and I hope you don't blame me for wanting to get away. If it was you, I don't know how I would live. But you're sensible. You know how to get over bad things and just carry on. Maybe you just ignore the pain. I don't know. But try. For me, try to carry on. Get out of the squat, take Alena and report the rest of them to the police. All the spare money is still stashed under the mattress. I've been leaving any I had spare for you. Then see if you can find Naboo. He'll know what to do. I'm sorry for leaving you, Howard. And I never forgot what you told me. I am the sunshine kid. I always will be, YOUR sunshine kid. So when the sun warms you up, I'll be there. Never forget what we had, Howard. Because it was perfect._

_All my love, Vince xxxxxxxx_

* * *

I stared and stared at the note, until the black marks of the biro blended into the white paper and I was left looking at an overwhelming greyness. He'd said so much I didn't know where to start. I didn't know what to think. He'd said that I was the trigger. I sent everything downhill for the final time. But he told me not to blame myself. I was full of guilt. And yet Vince said I shouldn't be. I didn't know what to do anymore. In the end, I screwed up the piece of paper and shoved it back in my pocket. I stared at the blank wall, glancing at my watch every three minutes. Time passed, and I felt myself dozing off once again into fitful sleep...

I jerked awake at once when I heard the metallic click of a door opening. I sat up straighter, nervous, as another doctor, a woman this time, walked over.

"How is he?" I asked, noting that there was weak light coming in the window in the corner.

"He's unconscious, but stable. With any luck, there won't be any lasting effects; just a few scars." she assured me. I couldn't muster up the energy to smile.

"Can I go and see him?" I asked.

"I'm afraid not, sir. Only family are allowed in until he wakes up."

"Please." I begged. "I'm _almost_ family to him. I'm all he's got now. He's been going through some hard times recently, and I wasn't always there. I want to be there for him now." The doctor looked at me and sighed.

"Alright then. Ten minutes. That's all."

"Thank you." She led me into the private room where Vince had been placed, and closed the door. I sat down in the plastic chair near the bed and took his hand in mine. His arms were covered in bandages from his wrists to his elbows, and he looked even paler than normal. But he was warm, and he was breathing. And he was alive. That was all that mattered. I thought I should speak, say something profound, tell him how I felt about his note. But that could wait until he woke up. Instead, I kept my mouth shut. I held his hand and I looked at him and I thought about how lucky I was not to have lost him. He didn't know how important he was. After twenty minutes, the doctor came back in.

"Come on." she said gently. "You've had more than your time. Go and get yourself a drink, something to eat. We'll tell you when he wakes up, and then you can come back, okay?" I nodded slowly and placed his hand down gently, where it almost blended in with the white bedcovers. I glanced back one last time as I walked out the door, wondering. Wishing. Most of all, waiting.

**AAaargh. That was horrible to write. Hopefully it was slightly less horrible to read.**

**Reviews are always well-received and lovely.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Well, after last chapter, hopefully things won't get any worse for Howard and Vince. I haven't planned out the next few chapters in any detail, so I don't know what will happen yet. But I know what's happening in this one, and that's what counts for now. Hope you like it :)**

**Disclaimer: ...What d'you think?**

Vince's POV

Images formed and dissolved behind my eyelids. I couldn't understand them. I felt strange. It was all wrong. Water. There was water. I was swimming in it. But not swimming. Drowning. I was drowning. I panicked. I struggled. I fought. And it began to give way. I felt myself surfacing. Slowly. Fighting my way up. I could feel again. But it was all pain. I kept struggling though. Maybe this was the way to go. My eyes flickered. They opened. I didn't know where I was. Everything was white. The light burnt my eyes. It was sterile. Cold. I searched through my memories for something that fitted the image. It took a while, but eventually I realised. Hospital. I was in a hospital bed. I could hear a monitor bleeping, and I could hear two people talking; a man and a woman.

"Howard?" I said. Or tried to. It came out as a sort of croak. They heard me anyway. I heard them rush over, and one of them changed the position of my bed so I was propped up. They tested my vision and asked me questions, and then left the room. I wondered where they were going, but soon lost interest. I noticed there was a drip in my arm, and shuddered. They must have used a needle for that. I hated needles. They made me feel sick. There was a click, and I looked up as the door opened slowly. My eyes widened as Howard walked in. Suddenly, everything clicked into place as I remembered what I had done, and why. Howard came over and sat next to the bed.

"Howard?" I whispered.

"It's alright, Vince." he said. "I'm here."

"It didn't work then."

"It nearly did. You nearly killed yourself."

"I don't remember."

"No, I didn't think you would. The doctor told me there was a high level of drugs in your blood; what little of it was left."

"What do you mean?"

"You needed three blood transfusions."

"Oh. What did I do, exactly?"

"You cut your wrists."

"Oh."

"Vince, I need you to promise this is never going to happen again. You have a life to live. You're the happiest person in the world; you can't give that up."

"Howard, I'm not... I can't carry on how I have been. That's not a life. That's torture. Finley, and the drugs, and all the hurt. That's not worth living for. That's why I did it."

"There was something else, wasn't there?" I hesitated.

"Yeah."

"I was the trigger. I told you I didn't love you like that, and you felt even worse than you already did."

"Howard, no." I looked him right in the eyes. "Don't you ever blame yourself. I might have written that in a note, but you aren't to blame. You're... I wouldn't... Howard, just don't. Don't think about it. I don't want to think about it. And I'm sorry."

"So am I." He took my hand in his and squeezed it. "Don't ever do that to me again."

"No. I won't."

"We need to get out of the squat, don't we?"

"I think so."

"You said in your note that we should take Alena with us and report them to the police."

"I know. I've been thinking that for a very long time, I remember it. I think we should. There's a lot of cash left over from selling the paintings. I reckon we'd have enough to put in a deposit for a flat somewhere."

"Maybe. Getting out'll be best for both of us."

"And we still need to find Naboo. He can help, I hope."

"Yeah." He didn't look at me for a minute. Then he said: "Are you glad it didn't work?"

"What?"

"You tried to kill yourself, Vince, and you're sitting here acting like it never happened." I looked at him, a little scared of what I needed to say.

"I don't know. I'm glad you're still here. I'm glad I have someone to help me. I'm not glad I still have a hundred and one problems and no way to solve them. I thought I'd taken the easy way out."

"Vince, I'm always here. I told you that, and it's still true."

"I know. I forgot that. But I think I felt like, since you didn't love me, you didn't want anything to do with me."

"No, Vince, that's not true at all!"

"I know that now. I wasn't thinking right. I know it doesn't matter how either of us feel. You're always my best friend, right?"

"Always." He squeezed my hand again, and I squeezed it back. "I want to hug you but I don't dare. I might break something." he said.

"Wait till they let me out of the bed, yeah?" I replied.

"Yeah. They said they have to get someone else to check you over, but then we can go."

"And then we'll go and get our stuff and leave, right?"

"Yeah. If we're that pushed, we'll spend some time in the van. It'll be uncomfortable, but anything's better than the squat."

"It is."

"And we can go back to how we used to be."

"Mm. Howard?"

"Yeah?"

"I need you to know: I still love you. And I don't think I can change that."

"I know. And I love you. But differently, that's all."

"I know. It'll be alright now, though."

"We aren't out of the woods yet. But we'll find a way."

"Good."

Another doctor came to check me over after a while. He made Howard leave, then poked and prodded for all he was worth. He disconnected my drip carefully and put a plaster over the wound it left, frowning all the while. But he seemed to be satisfied, as in the end he smiled and said:

"Well, I think you're in good working order. I'm going to prescribe you anti-depressants and make you an appointment with a psychiatrist. Hopefully we can sort this mess out."

"Can you set the appointment back a bit?" I asked. "Only, me and Howard have got a lot to sort out before I can get anywhere."

"Of course. I'll give you a couple of weeks, how's that?"

"Great. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, your clothes are in the cupboard next to the bed. You can get dressed."

"Alright. Can you help me up?"

"Certainly." He took my arm gently and helped me haul myself out of the bed. "Will you be alright now?" he asked. "I can send in a nurse to help you?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks." He nodded and left the room. I got dressed slowly and carefully, trying not to touch my arms. I knew my body was full of painkillers at the moment, and that when they wore off, I would be in a bad way. I finally managed to slip my boots on and went out to where Howard was waiting. Neither of us said anything. He held out his arms and I hugged him as tightly as I could manage.

"It's alright, Vince." he whispered into my hair. "It's gonna be okay."

"Howard, if anyone can make it alright, it's you."

"We'll _both_ make it alright." He let go of me and looked me in the eye. "You're alive, Vince. That's all that I care." I couldn't look back at him.

"Come on, we need to go to the nurse's desk. They've got some stuff for me." We made our way to the desk opposite the lift and waited. A couple of minutes later, a male nurse came through with a paper bag and a small card.

"Vince Noir?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"These are your painkillers, your anti-depressants, and this is your appointment card for the psychiatrist." He handed me the items and I took them reluctantly.

"Thanks. Bye."

"Bye." He waved us off as we headed for the lift. I tucked the card into my pocket and held the paper bag loosely in my hand. Howard held my other hand as we walked into the lift. We descended in silence, before walking out to where the van sat in the car park. Howard helped me in, then went round to the driver's side.

"They put you on anti-depressants?" He said.

"Yeah. They did."

"Do you think you really need them?"

"Yes. I think anything that helps me out of this is useful. I think I'll go to the psychiatrist as well. I think they might be able to bring me out of this a bit. But I need to get _out_ of the squat first."

"We both do. We need to go there now, get our stuff, and go."

"We need to take Alena. She's a good person, Howard, like you. She was trying to help me, but she never managed."

"I know. I never really trusted her, but I should have done."

"It's alright. Come on, let's go. I don't ever want to see a hospital again."

"Me neither." He started the engine and reversed us out of the car park. As we got onto the road properly, I said:

"Howard?"

"What's up, little man?"

"I need to know this now. Before I get my hopes up. I said I loved you, and you didn't love me back, not like that. But will you, ever? One day?" He was silent for a while, staring at the road.

"One day." He said, so quietly I wasn't sure I'd heard him. "One day, maybe, everything'll line up. Give it time. It doesn't matter what we are, Vince, as long as I've got you and you've got me."

"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to know. Thank you." I yawned.

"Go to sleep, if you're tired. We've another half an hour or so until we're back." I _was_ tired. So I nodded and closed my eyes, letting the purr of the engine put my weary mind to rest.

**Reviews would be very very sweet :)**

**Much love x**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: They're leaving! Hurrah! Sorry it's been so long, I'm having severe problems with my internet. As usual. BT sucks. But Vince and Howard and Alena are leaving the squat now. For good. I hope you like this chapter :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, because I prefer to borrow.**

Howard's POV

We arrived back at the squat about forty minutes later, thanks to the enormous queues of traffic we had encountered. Well, I say 'we'. Vince didn't notice. He was asleep, so deeply that it took me several minutes to wake him up. I didn't think it was possible to fall into such a deep sleep so quickly.

"Vince." I said, shaking his shoulder gently. "Vince. Come on, we're back. Vince. C'mon, little man. Let's go and get our stuff. Vince. _Vince_." He stirred, and I waited as he pulled himself out of unconsciousness.

"Mm. What?" He said blearily.

"We're back. You have to get out."

"Yeah." He nodded and got out of the van. He tried to stretch, but winced and stopped. I looked at him in concern.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yeah. Remind me never to stretch my arms again." He replied.

"Will do. Come on, let's go and find Alena first, we can tell her to pack."

"Mm." We started to walk towards the building, but Vince was trailing behind. I slowed down and put an arm around his waist to help him. He thanked me quietly and we kept going. It took us a while to reach the second floor, but we got there in the end. Then Vince knocked his heel against the doorframe. Alena came over after a few seconds. She looked like she hadn't slept well, and her face was creased in worry.

"Vince!" She said. "Are you alright?"

"Do I look alright?" He asked, holding out his bandaged arms.

"No." She blinked, and tears came to her eyes. "God, Vince, I'm so, so sorry. I didn't think you'd ever do this. I never meant to introduce you to drugs in the first place, and now... You've tried to kill yourself, and it's my fault." She broke down, crying loudly. Vince and I hugged her tightly, trying to calm her.

"It's not your fault, Alena." Vince assured her. "I know that. Finley began all this, and he's going to pay for it, right?" She looked at him.

"How?"

"We're getting out of here, and then we're gonna report him to the police." I told her.

"Really? But all the others will get found out too."

"We know."

"That's not fair."

"Well, if you think someone deserves to go free, tell them what's going to happen, and to get out of here. But you're coming with us."

"What?"

"Pack your stuff up. We've got about enough money to put down a deposit on a flat. You can stay with us until you get yourself clean and find a place of your own." She stared and wiped her eyes.

"That's really sweet of you. Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. You tried, Alena. That's all that matters." She nodded.

"Alright. I'll meet you back here in... Half an hour?"

"Yeah, sure. We'll go and get our stuff."

"Okay." She went back into the studio, and I put my arm around Vince's waist again to help him up the stairs. It wasn't as if he'd even done anything to his legs. I thought he was just weak at the moment, maybe from the amount of blood he'd lost. But I was going to help him in any case. When we reached our room, he sat down immediately on the bed. He flexed his left arm and pulled a face.

"Think the morphine's wearing off." he said.

"Really? Well, you've got the painkillers the hospital gave you. Where are they?"

"The glove box in the van."

"You can take one when we get back in there, then."

"Yeah."

"D'you want me to help you with your stuff?"

"No, it's fine. Alena packed most of it up the other day."

"Oh, yeah. There's nothing you've missed, is there?"

"My jumper, again." He pointed to where it was slung on the floor across the room near the now-dry patch of blood. I retrieved it and handed it to him. He put it on and pulled the sleeves down so they covered his bandages, holding the cuffs tightly in his clenched fists. I packed up my things quickly and quietly, trying not to disturb him as he stared, unblinking, into space. But in the end, we were both ready to go, and I needed to alert him.

"Vince?" I whispered. He turned at once.

"Yeah. I'm ready. Come on." He picked up his suitcase, flinched, and dropped it. "Okay. Maybe not." He said.

"I'll carry it. Can you manage the stairs on your own?"

"Yeah." I picked up his suitcase and looked around at the room. It now had our mark on it, at least. The painting on the wall from where I got bored of waiting for Vince that day. The unmistakeable reddish brown stain on the concrete in the corner. I was glad to be leaving. It had brought us nothing but troubles. I went in front of Vince, since he was slower than me, but I waited for him at every landing. In the end, we reached the second floor again, where Alena stood waiting with a large black holdall in her hand.

"Are we ready?" She asked.

"I think so." I replied. "Vince?" He nodded.

"Ready for what?" said a horribly familiar voice.

"Ready to go, Finley." I sighed.

"You're going? Where?"

"As if we'd tell you that." Vince said, shaking his head.

"Oh, Vince. Look at your arms. Your poor arms. Your poor head. Your poor heart." He said. "I think you need some help. Not them. I could help you, you know. I've helped Alena here. Not that she was ever grateful."

"Don't listen to him, Vince." Alena said. Then she turned on Finley. "Helped me? Helped me? You're a liar Finley. You've brought me nothing but bad since I met you. I should have done what Vince did, stayed in college, got a friend, got a job. I came to you, and what's my repayment? Years of hell. You've broken me. I hope you're happy, Finley, you evil bastard."

"Oh, you're so imaginative with your insults." He said sarcastically. "Doesn't matter anyway. I was gonna throw you all out."

"We'll go quietly then. We want to go." Vince said.

"Oh? Shame. I was looking forward to my fist connecting with your face again."

"And I was looking forward to _my_ fist hitting _your_ face again." I replied angrily. "Leave off him, or it will."

"Ha!" Finley threw his head back in mock-laughter. "You got lucky knocking me out once. I'd like to see you try to do that again."

"Well, too bad. We're leaving. Now. Come on." I started down the stairs, Vince and Alena close behind me. Finley called after us:

"I'll find you, you know. I've got a knack. I'll get you one day."

"Not if you're behind bars." I muttered as we left the building. We put our suitcases in the boot of the van, and got in. Alena said:

"You dealt with him well, Howard."

"Thanks. Who did you tell about our plan?"

"Basically all the people normally on your floor, though Finley moved them down to ours so he could keep an eye on them. Jane, Yvonne, Keelan... Those people. The ones who've never bothered you or me. Oh, and Jackie, because she's my friend."

"Right. And none of them will tell Finley?"

"No. I made them promise."

"Howard, have you got a drink? I need to take some painkillers." Vince interrupted.

"Yeah." I handed him the bottle of water I had bought at the hospital and never drank. He took the pill quickly, shuddering as it went down.

"I hate pills." he said.

"I know. You'll be alright, Vince."

"Are we leaving now?" Alena said anxiously."

"Yes, we are." I turned on the engine and backed the van out of the car park. I didn't know where I was heading. Just that we needed to go. Somewhere. Anywhere. Just away. That was enough.

We drove around the city for a long time, not really knowing what to do. We didn't know whether to look for a place, go to the estate agents, or just give up for today. In the end, I found a public car park and pulled in. As I turned off the engine, Vince said:

"Are we staying here tonight, then?"

"I don't know what else we can do at the minute." I replied. "If we had Naboo, we'd be alright."

"I'd ring him, but my phone battery ran out and I never brought the charger."

"Well, I've got a phone." Alena said, pulling it out of her pocket. "You can use it if you want."

"Really?" I said, taking it.

"Go for it."

"No." Vince said, surprising me.

"What?"

"Not tonight. I'll have to talk to Naboo, and he'll want the full story, beginning to end. I don't think I can tell it today. Wait until tomorrow." I nodded.

"Alright." I handed back Alena's phone.

"Thanks." She said. "Listen, I think we need food and drinks. I've got a little bit of money, I saw a little shop around the corner, I'm gonna go and get us some bread and some drinks."

"Yeah, good idea." I nodded.

"Right, see you in a minute." She got out of the van and walked off across the car park.

"Right." I said. "I think we should out the seats down in the back so we can actually sleep tonight. Or _I_ should, anyway." Vince nodded. I got into the back and set to work. It didn't take long, and we soon also had room to sit down on the floor together. Vince climbed into the back and sat next to me. He didn't say anything, just crossed his legs and leant on my shoulder. I put my arm around him and rested my hand on his shoulder, but he flinched away from me. I frowned.

"What's wrong, little man?"

"It's best if you don't touch me, Howard." He said sadly. "False hope, and all that?"

"Oh. Sorry." I moved my arm and leant on the back of the driver's seat. Vince sighed.

"What the hell am I sayin'? I sound like you. Do what you want." I put my arm back and he nuzzled closer into my shoulder.

"What's the matter, Vince?" I asked, still worried about him beyond belief.

"I'm scared, Howard. I don't know what to do. I thought I'd ended it all, and I'm just stuck here. You and Alena, that's all I've got left now. And one day, Alena'll get herself clean and then it'll just be you."

"But I'll _always_ be there, Vince. I've told you. I'm not gonna give up on you because you tried to kill yourself. You're special, sir. I'm not going to let you down."

"I'm just frightened of everything. Frightened of living. I was frightened of dying too, but I thought that'd be better, you know?" He looked up at me, baby blue eyes boring into mine.

"I know. But, honestly, trust me. Things are gonna get better, you'll see. Take it day by day, and just keep going."

"Yeah, I guess so. But our promise still stands, right?"

"To protect each other? Yeah. I'm not gonna break that promise." He nodded and closed his eyes, sighing. I could feel his breath on my skin. I looked at him, wondering how my sunshine kid had deteriorated into this so quickly. This was the most scared, the most vulnerable he'd ever been. He'd hurt himself so much now, and even with the pills, we certainly wouldn't be out of the woods for a while. I didn't know if I could handle it. But I would try. For Vince, I would always try.

**Little bit sad, but at least they're safer now. Reviews are always welcomed with open arms and open inboxes :)**

**Much love x**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: So, chapter sixteen. I can't get Return Of The Boosh up tonight, and I might not get it up tomorrow either, because I'm going out for the first time in two months. I'll try for Saturday morning. Sorry about that. Anyway, hopefully this chapter sorts a couple of things out, and solves a couple of problems. I've proof-read it over and over, but I keep finding more mistakes, so sorry if they're still there. I hope you enjoy it :)**

**Disclaimer: NO. NO. NO. Didn't you see the last fifteen chapters' disclaimers?**

Vince's POV

We spent another two days living in the van, cramped up and uncomfortable, while we searched for a flat. Howard would go out to an estate agent and look for a place, leaving me and Alena alone. Often he was gone before I was awake. On the second day, I woke up to see Alena leaning over me, her long hair tickling my face.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"What?" I replied sleepily.

"You were shouting out for Howard in your sleep."

"Was I?"

"Yeah. You're okay, aren't you?" I sat up and yawned.

"No worse than usual, if that's what you mean."

"Right." She backed off. I rubbed my eyes and tried to remember what I'd been dreaming about. Obviously Howard, in some way. I wasn't sure what way, but if I felt the need to shout, I probably didn't want to know. I tried to stop thinking about it, and spoke to Alena instead.

"Did you sleep alright?" I asked.

"Not bad. This isn't the most comfortable place to sleep."

"No."

"What about you?"

"I dunno. Keep having weird dreams. Something's still goin' on in my head that I don't like."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I feel like that as well. It's because you've not had the drugs for a few days."

"Is that what it is?"

"Yeah. I tried to give up once. I went two weeks before I snapped. It gets worse than this."

"Great."

"It's alright, Vince. We'll get through it. We've got each other, and Howard."

"And we'll have Naboo soon."

"Yeah. I'm looking forward to meeting him."

"He's nice. I think you'll like him. He'll probably help us, too. He's good like that."

"Mmm." She sighed. "Just out of curiosity, have you started taking your anti-depressants yet?"

"Yeah, started yesterday. I have to take one every morning."

"Are they helping?"

"Not yet. I feel the same as ever, but I've only had one. I need to take one soon, actually."

"What about your painkillers?"

"That's a good point, actually. I need to take both." I got the pills out of the glove box and Alena handed me a bottle of water. I took one of each, grimacing, and put them back. My eyes alighted on the small white card abandoned nearby. I pulled it out and looked at it.

"What's that?" Alena asked. I showed her.

"It's my appointment card for the psychiatrist. I've got to go and tell a complete stranger about my problems." Now that I thought about it, it didn't seem like such a good idea after all. Alena seemed to agree; she pulled a face.

"I wouldn't want to do that."

"I _don't_ want to do that. But I suppose if it helps, I've got to."

"Well, I think you should do what feels right for you, not what the doctors think you should do."

"Maybe. I think I should try it. Doesn't mean I have to go back, does it?"

"No, that's true. Do what you want, Vince. It's your choice."

"Yeah." I gave her a little smile, and she tried to return it. She looked as lost as I felt. I realised that she was probably suffering just as much as me. Maybe she was better at keeping it bottled up. I felt like I should comfort her, so I went over and hugged her. She didn't say anything, just hugged me back. It wasn't a long hug, but she looked better for it.

"Thanks, Vince." She said quietly.

"No problem." I replied.

Howard arrived back at the van after a few hours. He got in and waved a piece of paper at us.

"Guess what I've got?" He said excitedly.

"A new flat?" I hazarded.

"Yep. These are the directions. I've paid them up front; they said the landlord'll deal with the rest."

"That's not normally how it works, is it?" Alena asked.

"No; they made a special exception for us. I explained our... Situation."

"Ah."

"Come on, let's put the seats back up, and we can get going." We unfolded the seats and I got back into the front passenger seat. Howard got into the driver's seat and started the engine, before driving away. He seemed to have some idea of where he was going, so I left him to it.

"How far is it?" Alena asked.

"Not very far. Only about ten minutes." Howard replied. He seemed optimistic about it. I wasn't sure what I felt about it. Obviously, it was good to be away from Finley and the drugs. But it still wasn't home. It wasn't the flat I knew and loved. It wasn't going to be _ours_. But Howard was right, and ten minutes later, we pulled up in a car park behind a three-storey stone building on the corner of two streets. I got out of the van first, with Howard close behind me.

"Is this it, then?" I asked.

"Yeah. We're on the top floor."

"Okay." Alena got out and stood looking at the building with us.

"It looks a bit imposing, doesn't it?" She said. It was true that the blackened stone and strange curly decorations around the windows made it look like some kind of Halloween house. But Howard said:

"Don't worry about it, you two. I've seen some pictures of the inside, you'll like it."

"Are you sure?" I asked, worried.

"Yeah. Come on, let's get our bags out of the back." I nodded and we retrieved our heavy cases. I tried to carry mine, but it made my arms hurt. In the end, I had to ask Howard to carry it again. I felt stupid for having to do that; like I was a failure. We went inside. There wasn't a lift, so we walked up the two long flights of stairs. Surprisingly, they were clean and carpeted. I immediately felt a bit more comfortable. When we reached the top, Howard said:

"The keys are in my shirt pocket. Can you get them out?" I did, and he pointed out which one I should use. I unlocked the door and pushed it open. None of us went in.

"Well? Come on." Howard said.

"I don't want to." I replied.

"Me neither." Alena looked nervous. "You go, Howard."

"Alright then." he sighed. He manoeuvred through the door with our cases. Alena and I followed cautiously, like scared little mice. But when we were inside, I didn't regret it. The interior was modern and pretty. The floors were made of pale wood, the walls were painted white, and there was minimalist furniture dotted around. In the corner of the main room we had walked into, there were two comfy chairs. Behind them, a large piece of flowing pale blue fabric was pinned to the wall, making it look like a waterfall. We had a look in at the kitchen, which was bigger than the one back at Nabootique. The three bedrooms were large and airy. However, we did find that one of the two double bedrooms, the master, had only a double bed in it. We couldn't really afford to go and buy two single beds, so we decided we would leave that one for Naboo and Bollo, since they weren't here yet. Naboo would be able to sort it out. Alena took the single room, and we took our things into the other double.

"Well, what do you think?" Howard asked.

"I like it." I said. "But it's not home yet."

"No, I know. Give it time. And when Naboo's here, it'll be better."

"We haven't rung him yet, have we?"

"No, we've not. Well, decide now. Unpacking first, or calling Naboo?"

"Calling Naboo." I decided. He pointed me towards the phone and I rang the mobile number I'd learnt by heart years ago. It rang for a long time. I was about to give up, when it stopped. A familiar voice said:

"'Ello? Who's this?"

"Naboolio!" I almost shouted. I was excited to hear from him again. "It's me, it's Vince!"

"Vince? You're alright!"

"Yeah. Well, sort of. I'll explain later. We've got a new flat, you've gotta come to us."

"Where are you?" I picked up the piece of paper with the address on, and read it to him.

"Did you get that?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think so. Flat C?"

"Yeah, top floor."

"Right. We'll be there in a couple hours. Just got somethin' to finish first."

"What is it?"

"It's a potion for ya. To help you with the drugs."

"Oh. How did you know about that?"

"I'm a shaman, I'm magic, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Can you bring some for Alena too? She's stayin' with us for a bit."

"If we've got enough."

"Thanks, 'Boo."

"S'alright. See you later."

"Yeah, see you." I put the phone down, smiling despite myself. I was going to see Naboo again. And soon.

**Naboo's coming back! YAY! Reviews would be wonderful :)**

**Much love x**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Guess who's coming back! NABOO! I'm as excited as Vince, believe me. I did this instead of my Chemistry homework, so if I get detention, at least it'll be worth it. And it was remarkably easy to write- compared to how some chapters have been, anyway. I hope you like it :D**

**Disclaimer: The Boosh is not mine and (probably) never will be.**

Howard's POV

We were a little tense for a while, thanks mainly to our anticipation of Naboo's return. That's not to say we would have been entirely comfortable without that. Vince was still scared, I could tell. But he did look a little happier. He'd always been pretty close to Naboo, and Bollo doted on him, like a parent, in a way. I always got the feeling there was something I didn't know about their relationship, but I never pried. Partly because I knew how much our magical friends disliked me. At least they tolerated me. Alena was sitting on one of the chairs in the corner, her head hanging over the low back.

"Are you okay?" I asked, breaking the silence. She looked up at me, shrugged, and leant back again.

"I'm alright." She replied.

"Sure?"

"I'm just adjusting. It's been a long time since I've felt upholstery."

"Good point."

"Don't bother about me, anyway. It's Vince you want to worry about." I looked over at him sitting on the window seat, staring out onto the street below. That childlike image still hung around him, same as it always did; he was like a child waiting for Father Christmas. Or waiting for someone to come home. My stomach twisted in sympathy for him. His innocence was gone now. They said some things you couldn't take away, but the drugs had done a fairly thorough job of taking away the Vince I knew. If he stopped smiling, I would know I'd lost him. But for now he was clinging on to his life. And hopefully his grip wouldn't loosen anytime soon. Naboo would make it alright anyway. He would probably _tie_ him to life if that would keep him with us. If anyone could help, it was Naboo.

* * *

We sat there for a while. There was a clock on the wall, silver and square and shiny. TICK. TOCK. TICK. TOCK. The sound of the seconds crawling by was driving me insane.

"I'm going to go and start unpacking." I said, standing up. Vince turned around to look at me. "You don't mind, do you?" I asked him.

"No. I'm staying here, though."

"Okay. Tell me when they get here."

"I will." He turned back to the window, and I went into our bedroom. I looked over to see what Alena was up to, but she had fallen asleep in the chair, now curled up with her head on the cushion. I left her to it and went to find my suitcase. I unzipped it quickly, and everything fell out. Not that it mattered; it was mostly clothes. And most of them wanted washing. I decided I might as well find Vince's washing as well and put it all on together. So I undid his suitcase as well and took out all the clothes that weren't folded. I noticed blood on one or two t-shirts, and tried to ignore it as I left the room to put the clothes into the washing machine. I decided not to turn it on yet, since I didn't know how loud it was. I didn't want to disturb the other two. As I looked at them from across the room, I felt like they were my responsibility. Yes, Naboo would help them, but he would just heal them physically. I decided it was up to me to heal them inside. To fix their hearts. And I wasn't going to let them down.

* * *

I was just putting my suitcase under the bed when Vince ran in.

"They're here, Howard! They're here!" He shouted. I dropped what I was doing and stood up.

"It was definitely them?"

"Yeah, they're on the flying carpet!"

"Okay, come on then." We went back into the living room, where Vince's excited shout had woken Alena.

"Are they here?" she asked, stifling a yawn. I nodded, and we waited. Two pairs of footsteps became audible; one light and deliberate, one muffled but heavy. There was a knock at the door, and Vince flung it open immediately. Naboo and Bollo stood there with suitcases.

"Vince!" Bollo dropped his case and rushed forward to give Vince a gorilla hug. I saw Vince bury his face in the hair, heard him sniff, and realised he was crying again. Naboo hugged him too, then said:

"It's good to have you back, Vince."

"You too, Naboolio." Vince smiled through his tears. Naboo turned to me next.

"Thanks for looking after him, Howard. You've been better to 'im than I expected." I was shocked. Coming from Naboo, that was like a medal of honour.

"I... You're welcome." I stuttered. Not everything changed, though, as Bollo didn't acknowledge me at all. I didn't mind. I noticed Alena, still sitting in the chair, looking one part confused to two parts scared. I beckoned her over, and she came and stood beside me.

"Naboo, Bollo, this is Alena. She helped us out while we were in the squat." Naboo nodded to her.

"Vince told me about you. You've been on drugs as well?"

"Yeah." She whispered.

"Naboo's got somethin' to help us, Alena." Vince told her.

"With the drugs?"

"Yeah." Naboo opened one of his cases, revealing four large bottles of what looked slug slime. "This'll make sure you can go without drugs. You take it daily for two months and then you should be fine. There's enough for you both. And I left some for the shamans. You know what they're like."

"Mm." Vince picked up one of the bottles and held it to the light. The liquid shimmered slightly, like it had glitter stirred into it. Still, knowing Naboo, that might just have been to make it look nicer.

"And this isn't going to affect them in any other way?" I asked, just making sure.

"It might make 'em a bit drowsy. Take it before bed." he advised them.

"I tried some." Bollo put in. "Tastes like bananas."

"Urgh, not like kids' banana medicine?" Alena said, pulling a face.

"A bit."

"Fantastic. Still, I'd rather that than withdrawal symptoms."

"Yeah." Vince nodded. "Thanks for this, Naboo. I knew you could help."

"Yeah. Now, what did _they_ give you?"

"They?"

"The hospital."

"Anti-depressants and painkillers. Why?"

"You can keep the painkillers, but the anti-depressants will react badly with that stuff." he pointed at the potion. "It'll work in pretty much the same way, too, so you won't need them."

"Right." Vince nodded and picked up the other bottle. He disappeared into our room and came back a moment later empty-handed. Our shaman and his familiar sat down on the sofa. Vince sat next to them, and Alena and I took the chairs in the corner.

"Right." Naboo said. "I want the whole story. Everything that's happened since you left the flat. Even if it seems unimportant. Vince?" Vince nodded and took a deep breath, before beginning to tell the story he'd dreaded voicing to the shaman.

It took a long time to explain everything in the amount of detail Naboo wanted. Eventually, Naboo nodded and said:

"I saw pieces of what happened in visions. I saw Finley."

"What are you gonna do about him?" I asked.

"It's been sorted. We went to the squat earlier. Let's say Finley won't be gettin' up for a while."

"I smashed him." Bollo said proudly.

"What about the rest of them?" Vince asked. "Did you go to the police?"

"No need. They've scarpered."

"What, all of 'em?"

"The ones that were left. They weren't gonna hang about wi' Bollo around. Anyway, what 'appened to the others?"

"We told everyone who hadn't caused us any trouble what was going to happen." Alena explained. "Most of them went just after we did."

"Okay then." Naboo nodded, before standing up. "Where's our room then?"

"This way." I got up and he came with me to the door, followed by Bollo. "There was a bit of an issue with the bed."

"What issue?" He opened the door. "Oh. There's only one. Fine, I'll sort it. You can go, Howard." I ignored the matter-of-fact dismissal and went back to sit with Vince on the sofa. He leant on my shoulder again and closed his eyes. I heard Naboo slam the bedroom door and say:

"Bollo, get out the way." There were incomprehensible mutterings for a few seconds, then a muffled 'whump' noise, like someone punching a large pillow. Bollo's voice piped up.

"You're meant to turn it into two beds, not dog bed!"

"Shut up, you hairy ballbag."

"Told you to just saw it in half."

"You're sleepin' in that bed tonight."

"Don't see why I should, you did it-" I looked down at Vince, who had opened his eyes and was smiling at the racket.

"Back to normal, eh?" I said. Vince's smile got wider. He started to giggle. I started too, and before long we were in fits of laughter. Even Alena joined in, having heard it all herself. Maybe we weren't quite back to normal. But he laughed. He laughed, and that made me hopeful. It made me feel like maybe this would actually work. Yes, we had work to do, and it wouldn't be easy. But I was going to heal them. I was confident in the fact that we would get there in the end.

**That last exchange was a good giggle to write :) Reviews would be totally lovely, and I love all my readers loads ^_^**

**Much love x**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Once again, sorry for the latecoming of this chapter. I got distracted by an English essay, a maths test, a Chemistry test, a Physics test, a French essay, a music presentation, flu, a stomach bug, accumulating artwork, and that terrible evil known as procrastination. But I've finally finished it, and it makes sense! So that's a positive. I hope you like it :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Vince's POV

The next day, I woke up early; unusual for me. I lay in bed for a few minutes, staring at the pure white ceiling, listening to the relative quiet of this part of the city. In the end, though, my mind started to drift, sending my thoughts in dark directions. I got out of bed. Howard was asleep. I left him there; he never disturbed me when he woke up early, so why should I disturb him? I left the bedroom and went to shower. I had issues with the temperature controls at first. I couldn't work out how they worked, so for a moment the water was freezing, then scalding hot. I figured it out in the end, and managed to get a comfortable spray of water. When I was dressed again, I went into the kitchen for a drink. Naboo was already in there, sitting at the table staring intently into a cup of tea. He looked up as I came in.

"Alright, Vince." He greeted me.

"Alright." I replied. I filled the kettle and turned it on, before turning back to Naboo.

"Are you okay?" He asked. I leant back on the counter and rubbed a hand through my hair.

"I dunno. I think so. I just have to stop my mind driftin', you know? Stay concentrated on something."

"Yeah. Listen, d'you know when that psychiatrist appointment is?"

"Yeah, next Tuesday."

"You can't go."

"What?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

"It won't help at all, Vince. He'll just prescribe you methadone. That's just another addictive thing; you're more likely to end up using on top of it. You have to stay away." I hesitated, but eventually nodded. Naboo knew what he was doing.

"So what do I do instead?"

"Just keep taking that potion. Have you had any yet?"

"Had some before I went to bed last night."

"Good. Just keep going. Everythin' will be alright in the end." I smiled, and remembered the chat we'd had before me and Howard had left for the squat.

"Naboo, when you talked to me before, did you know what was gonna happen?" He didn't answer for a minute.

"I had a vague idea. I knew something bad would happen. I didn't think it would be this bad, but… yeah."

"And that's why you told me all those things. Like how you should ignore the truth cause it's better to live a lie than die."

"And that nothing lasts forever. And to always stay yourself."

"Yeah. And I forgot all of it. I listened to the truth and it nearly killed me. I thought this would last forever. I forgot who I was."

"It doesn't matter now, Vince, okay? It's in the past. You have to focus on the future. Right?"

"Yeah. I will."

"Good. Now, give the psychiatrist a call, tell 'em you can't make your appointment."

"Yeah." I went into the living room and found my appointment card, and called the number at the bottom.

"Hello, Oak Lane Psychiatry, how can I help you?" A woman said. She sounded bright and cheerful.

"Hi, I'd like to cancel an appointment."

"What's your name?"

"Vince Noir." I heard her tapping at a keyboard.

"Ah, yes, Tuesday afternoon at 3:30. Could you give us a reason as to why you can't make it?"

"Um… I'm gonna be busy. Won't be able to make it in time."

"Alright. Do you want to reserve another one?"

"I'll leave it for now, thanks."

"Okay, thanks for letting us know. Goodbye."

"Bye." I put the phone down with a certain sense of relief. One more torture I wouldn't have to go through. I went back into the kitchen to finish making a cup of tea. Thank god for Naboo.

Howard got up not long after me, and came into the kitchen. Naboo quietly got up and left us alone, knowing that we needed some peace. Howard sat down next to me at the table.

"Morning, little man." He said. I smiled at the nickname I had missed.

"Mornin'." I replied.

"How d'you feel about going up to the storage centre today and picking up our stuff?"

"Yeah, sure. I don't mind."

"You can get all your clothes back."

"Mmm. I have missed them."

"Just let me have something to eat, and we'll go."

Twenty minutes later, we were on the way to the storage centre in the van. We didn't speak much at first. But then I started to recognise the area we were in.

"Hey, this is near Nabootique, isn't it?" I asked. Howard looked around quickly.

"Yeah, I think so." He replied. "Vince, you know we can't go back, don't you?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I just…" I shrugged.

"I know. We'll go back one day, don't worry. This isn't the end, right?"

"That's good. Somethin' to look forward to?"

"Yeah." He turned for just a second to smile at me, and I felt a bit better. It wasn't much longer until we came to the storage centre and found our door. Howard unlocked it and we went inside. I opened a box and found a load of jazz LPs.

"Here, Howard, these are yours." I handed him the box and he carefully put them into the van. We started going through the boxes, finding it was actually quite difficult to tell the difference between our current stuff and Howard's stuff from the eighties. In the end we had almost everything, but there was one last box in the corner. I opened it and was greeted with the sight of silver sequinned fabric.

"My mirrorball suit!" I picked it up. "I've missed it."

"You know what? So have I." Howard said. "You'll have to wear it soon."

"Definitely."

"Come on, let's put it in the van." I nodded, put it back in the box, and took the box back to the van. As I closed the back door, Howard put a hand on my shoulder. I turned to face him.

"What's up?" I asked.

"We're going to make this new flat home, right?" he said.

"Yeah. We have to."

"We're not going to let you suffer anymore."

"I know you won't, Howard. You couldn't."

"I know. I abandoned you in the squat and I'm not-"

"No you didn't. You did your best, so did everyone. It was Finley who did it and it was him who paid for it."

"But-"

"No, listen." I put my finger to my lips and he stood still and silent. "You've done nothin' wrong. You've always been good to me and you never stopped. You were always doin' what you could to keep me safe. It's never easy, with me. And I'm sorry I was such a dick some days."

"It's fine. It wasn't a problem." He looked a bit bewildered and a bit scared that I was having to encourage him. I sighed.

"Come here, Howard." I held out my arms, and he hugged me tightly. A shudder ran through me, but I ignored it and just held him. We needed each other now. He was as desperate as any of us, but in a different way. He had it hard enough with me. Now with Alena as well, it was going to be difficult for him.

"Howard." I whispered in his ear. "I'm gonna do whatever I can to help you now, okay?"

"Okay. If you think you're up to it."

"I will be." He let go of me, and I nodded.

"Come on. Let's get back." He said. "Naboo'll wonder where we are."

"Yeah." We got into the van and turned it around to drive back to the new flat. It was abnormally quiet on the roads; there was a lot less traffic than usual. It was quiet in the van too. I didn't know what to say or what to do. Howard was concentrating on driving, but I guessed that he was in the same state. It wasn't long before we were back at the new flat, and we enlisted Bollo's help to bring the boxes in; he could bring four at a time without breaking a sweat, so the job was done twice as fast as last time. When everything was in the flat, we took our stuff into our room and started unpacking it. The room was a little bit smaller than our old one, and not everything had a place to go. But we found somewhere to put most things, and I proudly hung my clothes in the wardrobe. Then I sat down on my bed, and Howard sat next to me.

"So. Vince. When you go to the psychiatrist-"

"I'm not going." I blurted out.

"What?"

"I decided I didn't want to go."

"Why?"

"I just did." I felt my face flush red, and he knew I was lying.

"Vince, what happened?"

"Naboo told me I couldn't go."

"But… Doesn't he know it'll help?"

"He said they'd just give me methadone, and that's worse, because I'll get addicted to that too." Howard nodded slowly.

"You know, I think I watched something about that once. I think he's right." He admitted grudgingly.

"Yeah. He told me to just keep taking the potion and I'd be fine."

"Well… If you trust him, so do I. I mean, he's not all bad, is he?" I laughed at the reluctant compliment.

"No, he isn't. You just have to trust him, Howard."

"I know. That's what I'm having trouble with at the moment."

**Howard has a _lot_ of trouble with Naboo. I would like to say that I am listening to Babel by Mumford and sons, and it is the best thing for inspiration ever. I mean _ever_. Reviews would be awesome and lovely. Much love to all of you xx**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Chapter nineteen is live! I really didn't know where to go with this one, so it's a bit all over the place. Also, it's a little more angsty than the last couple, but I promised myself I wouldn't make the last chapter angsty, so it will be better. I will upload chapter 20 sooner than usual, probably at the weekend sometime, since I have craploads of homework. AGAIN. Damn Physics. But I want to get it finished so I can get started with something new (Details at the bottom!). Hope you like it :)**

**Disclaimer: The work of art that is the Boosh is not mine. Only in my dreams.**

Howard's POV

February 23rd

Months passed in the blink of an eye. Christmas came and went, and the new flat finally started to feel like our own. I had watched as Naboo's potion began to work on Vince and Alena. Alena looked several years younger, the dark circles under her eyes gone, her skin glowing healthily. Vince had lost the hollow look to his face, and he'd put a little weight back on. Most of all, he was happy. He was back to the sunshine kid I'd always known, laughing and taking the mickey where he saw fit. Having him back was the best feeling in the world. Although, of course, it wasn't perfect. He still had nightmares about when Finley attacked him, and the night he almost killed himself. Still, I couldn't say it was any different for me. I didn't want to imagine the sort of things Alena had nightmares about. But she was getting better too. She was a part of our odd little family now. So it was a surprise when she came into the living room at 9am and said:

"I'm leaving."

"What?" I asked, shocked.

"I'm going. My friend's going to take me in until I get a job and a place of my own."

"Why don't you stay here until then?"

"Howard, I don't think-" She stopped as Vince walked in, having just gotten dressed.

"What's happenin'?" He asked.

"I'm leaving, Vince." Alena said. "I've stayed here too long. I've not paid you anything. Anyway, I'd really like to just get away from any memory of the squat. I'm better physically. I just need to forget everything, that's all."

"But we can help you, can't we?" I said.

"No, you can't. Believe me, I know what I'm doing. And I'll be alright. I just need to get back to how I was before I went off with Finley." I was stuck in a state of disbelief, but Vince just bit his lip and nodded.

"You want to leave it behind, but you can't because I keep remindin' you of it, right?" He said.

"Yeah. I don't mean it personally, but-"

"It's fine. I know what you mean. It's your choice, isn't it? We'll miss you, but if it helps you, you should go."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Do what's best for you."

"Thanks, Vince. I'm leaving today, so I'm gonna go and pack."

"Okay." Vince sat next to me as Alena went back into her room.

"Hell of a thing to talk about when you just got up." He said.

"I'll say." I muttered. "I had no idea she wanted to leave."

"Well, I think she just feels like she's livin' off us, and she don't like it. She's always been independent."

"Maybe. It'll be weird not having her around though."

"Yeah. She's always there if I want to talk to her." I sighed, and turned to look at him.

"Well, it'll just be us lot again, won't it?"

"Like it used to be."

"Yeah. Like it used to be." I smiled. He grinned back and said:

"It seems like ages ago, doesn't it?"

"It's _been_ ages. I mean, it's nearly three months since we left the squat."

"That long?" His grin faded and he looked down at the scars on his arm, clearly visible below the sleeve of his David Bowie t-shirt.

"Sorry." I said. I knew he didn't like being reminded of it.

"It's not your fault. I just remember it so clearly, and I wish I didn't."

"I know. But I'm here, right? It's in the past now, you have to concentrate on the present."

"Yeah, I know." He nodded and looked at me.

"How is your arm now?" I asked. He turned and showed me. The criss-cross of scars was pale, fading away with time, although some of them stood out, darker, clearly where he'd cut deeper. I touched them. He shivered and I went to move my hand away. He caught it and squeezed my fingers.

"Thank you, Howard." He said, before letting go and walking out.

I next spoke to Vince at about twelve o clock; the watery winter sun was high as he came into our room, where I was sitting listening to music. I took my headphones off as he came in. He looked troubled, and I didn't even have to say anything before he muttered:

"Don't ask."

"Why not?"

"You've heard it all before."

"I'm sure I can cope with hearing it again." He sighed loudly and sat down on the bed beside me, tilting his head back in frustration.

"I keep… remembering. I can't get rid of it. I talked to Naboo, and he said he can't do anything about. I just have to wait until it goes away on its own."

"You know it's alright now. You're not going to have to go through anything like that again. You won't have to hurt yourself anymore."

"No, Howard. That's… that's not the bit I meant."

"What bit?"

"I… It's not…" He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. I gently moved them away and sorted out his fringe.

"Vince, if you don't want to tell me, don't. We've been through this before, and I don't want to hurt you again. Tell me when you feel like it, right?" He nodded and I let go of his hands. He was still staring at me when Alena walked in. She looked at us for a moment, before saying:

"I'm going now. My friend's picking me up, she's waiting outside."

"Alright. We'll see you off." I said. Vince nodded and we followed her downstairs. I offered to carry her bags, but she insisted on taking them herself. When we finally got downstairs, she dumped her bags in the back of her friend's ancient Ford and came back to us.

"I'm really gonna miss you two, and Naboo and Bollo. You've been so good to me; you've looked after me and never asked for anything in return. I wish I could stay, but I think I should stop mooching off you now." She smiled. "I'll stay in contact, I promise. And you two have to as well."

"We will." Vince promised.

"Thank you. So, goodbye." She hugged Vince tightly, and I could see her trying not to cry. She came up to me and hesitated, but then flung her arms around me. "Thank you. Thank you." She repeated, sobbing now. She let go of me, and got into the car. There was a pause, before the car engine started up and the vehicle drove off down the street, Alena waving all the time. I waved until I couldn't see her anymore, then let my hand drop. I looked over at Vince. He looked a bit lost, and I put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm still here, Vince. I'm not going anywhere."

"I know. Come on. Let's go back inside." I nodded and we went back up the stairs. We found Naboo sitting on the sofa flicking through Vince's magazine. Vince scowled at him, but left him and went back into our room.

"Alena's gone." I said. Naboo looked up.

"Where?"

"She's gone to stay with another friend. She's fed up of mooching off us."

"Oh." He looked a little disappointed, but picked up the magazine and kept reading. I shook my head and left him to it, heading for mine and Vince's room. I found him lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, hands folded on his chest. I tried not to sigh at him. I knew something was wrong, but I knew now that I should leave him to get it out of his system. But again, he spoke before I could:

"I keep rememberin' when I told you I loved you."

"Oh."

"And I keep thinkin' how _stupid_ I was. I mean, that's what led to all the trouble. I wouldn't have tried to… y'know."

"I know."

"And… I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It doesn't matter."

"I'm not sayin' it wasn't true. It was, and it still is. But I should 'ave kept it to myself."

"You have to stop blaming yourself, Vince. I don't care about anything that happened. I'm trying to look forward instead of back. Let's just try to forget it."

"I don't think I can forget."

"Try. Even if you can't manage it, you know it's just a memory now."

"Yeah." He sat up and looked at me. "Just a memory."

**Okay, we're all set for chapter twenty. The last chapter :( But it's okay, I have a couple of other ideas for new fics, one of which I have already started writing:**

**- A Mighty Boosh/IT Crowd crossover, because there aren't enough of them on this site. This is the one I've started, so it's definitely happening.**  
**- A Mighty Boosh/Red Dwarf crossover, because I want to abandon relationships and angst for a while and see if I can write something funny.**  
**- A Boosh fic set between series one and two, because I want to know how they got from the zoo to the flat and why Vince dyed his hair.**  
**- The sequel to The Boosh Is Loose, because we all want to know when they'll need their signal for the doctor, but that'll have to wait until I actually see the last two episodes and the Christmas one. I'm so lost! But I hear The Angels Take Manhattan is really really sad.**

**Anyway, that's enough of my rambling. I'll see you soon. Reviews would be lovely-jubbly, just like you.**

**Much love xx**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Early upload for this, thanks to a sudden influx of inspiration. I know I said it wouldn't be angsty, but it is a little bit. Hopefully it's not too bad. I hope you enjoy the last chapter :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the story.**

Vince's POV

I was having trouble sleeping that night. It was freezing cold, but if I kept the duvet on, I was too hot. I spent hours tossing and turning, uncomfortable and upset. I didn't know why Howard had told me to forget what I'd told him. I wanted to ask him. I didn't know if I really wanted to wake him, though. I sat up, and looked across the room at his bed.

"Howard?" I said. "Are you awake?" There was silence for a second. Eventually he replied:

"Yeah."

"Howard, I can't sleep."

"Me neither."

"Can I turn the light on?"

"Yeah." I got up and stumbled over to the light switch and flicked it. Howard screwed up his eyes against the sudden brightness, and I squinted back at him as I sat back on the bed. As we got used to the light, Howard said:

"I don't want to stay here at the minute."

"Mm." I agreed.

"Do you think we should go somewhere?" I looked at the clock.

"It's three am." I answered doubtfully.

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not."

"Come on then. Get dressed and we'll go for a walk."

"It's freezin'."

"You can wear my coat."

"Okay." He got out of bed, took some clothes out of the chest of drawers, and headed for the bathroom. I went to the wardrobe and stared inside. I was tempted to put the mirrorball suit on. I had worn it a few times lately, and I'd paraded around in it proudly at Christmas. But maybe not now. Not in the cold. I found a pair of black jeans, a t-shirt, and a thin black jumper. I put my boots on and waited for Howard to come back. He wasn't long, and he led me through the flat to the coat hooks. He put on his khaki green coat and handed me an old one of his, a black trench coat. I put it on and did up the buttons. The sleeves were too long for me, but I decided it was better than nothing. We opened the door quietly, making sure not to wake Naboo and Bollo, and went downstairs. When we finally reached the street, Howard gave me a smile, one I couldn't help returning. It was frosty, and the street was slippery in places. The streetlights lit up the layer of white on the roofs and the walls. Howard's coat kept me warm. We set off down the road, side by side, hands in pockets, breath condensing in the air. We didn't say anything for a few minutes. But we were tense, and it was killing me.

"I don't want to forget." I said.

"What?" He frowned in confusion.

"You told me that I should forget what I said to you. About loving you. And I don't want to."

"That wasn't what I meant." He said gently. "I meant you should forget how guilty you are over it. I don't think you should feel bad. You told the truth, that's not a crime."

"I know. But I feel so stupid. You don't love me the way I love you. And it's just… horrible."

"Vince, you don't know the half of it." He muttered.

"What d'you mean?" I asked cautiously.

"I mean that there's a lot more to what I feel than you know." He stopped walking and turned to look at me. "I mean that I've never felt so messed up in my life as I have done over the past six months, and all because of this. Because of you. Seeing someone you've always had nearly disappear off the face of the Earth can send your feelings off course."

"So… what are you sayin'?"

"I don't know, Vince, that's the whole point. I just don't know how I feel anymore." He bowed his head and kept walking. I hurried after him, dodging patches of ice on the ground.

"Howard!" I got in front of him and grabbed his arms. He stopped again, and I kept hold of him. "Howard, it doesn't matter."

"Sorry?"

"Why should it matter what we are to each other? We're always best friends, aren't we? We've always been… affectionate, I guess. We're always one step away from a relationship, but we never go there. And y'know what? I don't care! As long as I've still got you, I don't care. If you're there, I can live with myself and the guilt and the nightmares and anythin' else. We don't have to be in a relationship. We just have to be there."

He stared at me. I didn't take my hands from his arms until he physically moved them. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly. For a moment we just stood there. Neither of us moved or said anything. But finally, he let go of me. Immediately I missed the embrace.

"I never thought you'd be the rational one in this relationship." He said with a grin.

"So it is a relationship?"

"It's whatever you want. You're right. As long we're always there, what does it matter? We've always been here, and we always will be."

"Thanks, Howard." He took my hand as we kept walking. I felt his warm, rough palm in mine, and squeezed it.

"You're welcome." He replied.

"Can I ask you somethin'?"

"Sure."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier? About how you felt?"

"I was confused. I didn't know if I was really feeling it or if it was just a mistake. And then when I realised it wasn't a mistake, I was scared to tell you. In case you'd changed your mind."

"I wouldn't do that."

"No. I know that now." He sighed and carried on. "For a long time, Vince, I thought I'd lost you. I thought that you were gone. Even when you got out of hospital, you were so distant for a while that I thought I'd never get you back how you were before we left home. And I know you still aren't perfectly happy. But now I think you'll come back to me."

"I'm already here." I said. He nodded and smiled. "I'm alright. I won't let go that easily. I fought all this way for you. So yeah. I'm coming back to you."

"That's good." He let go of my hand and slid his arm around my waist. I shivered again, same as I did every time he touched me now. But now he shivered too, and in the cold, we were together. The way we were meant to be. But one thing was still missing.

"Howard, do you think we'll go back to Nabootique?" I asked.

"I think we will. Naboo will want the place back, I should think. And he left most of his stuff there. He won't have let anyone buy it, don't you worry."

"No." I tried not to laugh; imagining the mess there would be if someone tried to move in. "I hope we go back soon. I like it here, but it's not our place, y'know?"

"I know. Don't worry, Vince. It'll all be alright." I nodded.

"It'll be alright." I echoed. We kept walking, sleepy and happy, better for finally telling the truth. The cold didn't make a difference to the way we leant on one another as we walked, the way we talked frankly about what we'd been through. Nothing could affect us now. Howard had been right; memories were nothing to worry about. The past was the past, and we couldn't change it. But we could change the future by how we acted in the present. And now, we were making sure our future would be bright.

**I hope you liked the ending; I just liked making it sweet. And I hope you enjoyed reading this story. It's been the most difficult to write story I've ever done, and there were parts I didn't even want to do. But now I've made the happy ending they deserved, and it's been worthwhile. Thank you very much for reading and reviewing what I do, and for following or favouriting too. I'll have to start a new story soon so that I have something to do. And I promise I will finish Lost Souls. I can't leave it where it is at the moment, but it's so frustrating. Anyway. Reviews would be lovely.**

**Much love xxx**


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